A Mongoose Came West
by Undomitable
Summary: Unfortunately ended - planned for a complete rewrite sometime in the distant future. A mongoose journeys to Mud months after Rango saves the town. Both her pasts from her adopted Jenkins Brothers and her life in China come after her. What's more, a certain Rattlesnake Jake has ironically sparked her heart...
1. Chapter 1: The Jenkins Brothers Aside,

**Author's Note:**

**I first want to put in a disclaimer: Rango and all its original characters are not mine, obviously. And Mongoose Marie is.**

**More importantly, I want to tell all you readers that the story gets better from here. I know Marie might seem like such a Mary-Sue in this chapter, and I may even rewrite it eventually, but things will improve. ;) Enjoy.**

**Edit: This chapter has been rewritten a little as of June 15th, 2012. Sorry. :x**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

It had been a few months since Mongoose Marie had killed her seven brothers. They weren't really her blood relations, no. No true family would ever sell their kin like a haunch of meat to the infamous desert kit fox: Red Leroy. After living with them for five years, all feelings of trust and belonging had vanished when she just happened to overhear their plans that one night. She would not be an exotic pet, taken to the brothels, the whorehouse, some god-awful place that made her grit her teeth thinking about it. She thought of the desolate women with no futures ahead of them, her mind painting pictures of a fear she did not know. As soon as she had confronted the weasel Jenkins Brothers, they had shot at her with their pistols, but their _exotic pet_ was not helpless. In her homeland, her species were known to kill and eat cobras twice their sizes. It was her reflexes and a sharp Bowie knife that saved her, and it was pure adrenaline and rage that drove her to bite and slice and stab the brothers 'till her clothes and hands were filthy with blood. She regretted nothing. If anything, she wanted to move on - eager to start a new life.

And what news did Mongoose Marie hear but of the prosperity of Mud. The town had originally been named Dirt, but she'd heard of the sheriff there who had brought water in plenty to the town, and it was now something of a lake resort. The money she'd taken from her dead brothers was just bountiful enough to buy a small house maybe, and a town like that was just the place she needed to settle down. An armadillo in the desert guided her for a while, and eventually she saw the sign. "Welcome to Mud". It looked rather new. She smiled.

It wasn't too shabby a place; the townspeople were bustling about their daily business. Someone was playing the piano in a nearby saloon, and, thinking that it might be a good place to get some information on living quarters, she stepped inside. A few people looked up at her and lost interest, then did a double take, having never seen a creature like her before. She was too lean to be a prairie dog, and too pretty to be a weasel. Someone in the back wolf whistled, and soon the whole place was staring at her. She blinked. Confused, Marie looked behind her to see who had caused the disturbance, but there was no one there. The room filled with laughter. Blushing hotly under her fur, she reminded herself she was Mongoose Marie, a killer, now, with seven dead weasels under her belt. Her eyes glared straight ahead, and she walked as butch as possible to the bar counter.

"Ya'll got any cactus rum in this place?" She asked haughtily, for good measure.

"Cactus rum? Not cactus juice? Now ain't that a bit strong for ye, darlin'?" the barkeeper said in a croaky voice. He took the cigar in his mouth and eyed her with his big toad eyes.

"Strong? Hah!" she burst loudly, as if it were a hilarious joke. She gave a wicked smile. "Hell, I'd drink snake venom if ya had it and it'd still be as mild as a glass o' milk. Hand me the drink, barkeep."

He produced a prickly bottle and she spun it by its neck into the air, caught it with her claws, and swiftly took a big gulp of the sizzling spirit. Showing off. Then, calmly, she set the bottle down, her face perfectly composed. Gasps of shock and awe reached her ears, and she played a cool smile. What she had said was true for the most part, except that she wasn't entirely unaffected by venom. As alcohol was to the average man, so was venom to her kind.

"I ain't ever seen a pretty thing like you drink like that." She turned to see a black rat with beady eyes and crooked teeth. "What's yer name, missy? Where d'you come from? You don't seem te be from these parts."

Marie swung casually in her seat, leaned back against the counter on her elbow, and tilted her head so that it rested on her other paw. Why shouldn't she show off? In her head, she pictured Mongoose Marie, the brave and bold woman from the far country, China, and her smile broadened.

"I'm Mongoose Marie. I come from the Far East, the Orient, and when I came here I became Marie... Jenkins." She paused, looking to see if her hint had been noticed. "Them Jenkins boys was my brothers, and I killed all seven of 'em." and with that, she grinned so as to show her sharp canines. The rat was unshaken.

"Really, now… So you're the real killer of them brothers."

Her eyebrows rose a little at "real killer", but she shrugged it off. She wanted to tell the saloon about her feats of killing cobras, dodging bullets, maybe even made up stories of her indomitable prowess. Her smile widened further, became crooked, and then it fell. She didn't want to show off. Not this much, anyways.

_She had killed her brothers._

A great sense of nostalgia was building in her stomach, but not for the Jenkins. They weren't her real family, but she did have one, back home. Her father, her sister's husband and her sister...

"Barkeep." she said, changing the subject. "Any residences up for sale 'round these parts? I'm lookin' for a nice place to settle down."

"You can stay at my place," the rat muttered, but before he could say more the mongoose splashed his cup into his face with her tail. She glared at him through narrowed eyes before turning back to the bartender.

"The Reynolds' house next to the old bank. They left in the drought and the place probably won't cost ya much if you ask the sheriff."

"Many thanks, sir." Marie said, and with that, snapped some coins onto the counter and slipped out of the saloon.

She walked and looked around and until she found a building with a hanging, varnished sign that read SHERIFF. She came up to the door and knocked once. No answer. She knocked again, and this time she heard a voice inside yelling, "Coming! One second there!" Soon the door opened, and a green chameleon appeared with a badge on his shirt.

"Well! A newcomer, eh?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"I'm Sheriff Rango. Now who might you be, and what can I help you with?"

She wondered if this was the same great sheriff who had killed a hawk and saved the town in the same week, and found it hard to believe. The mongoose had manners, though, and gave a small smile.

"Howdy, Sheriff. The name's Mongoose Marie. I've heard that the old Reynolds' house was available. I'm lookin' for a new home, and I reckon I've got enough coin to buy the place."

The sheriff held his chin thoughtfully and seemed to try to remember something.

"Oh! That spot by the old bank. I know what you're sayin'. Weelll, it's up fer grabs if ya want it. Been empty for half a year or more, I won't charge you for it. You might wanna fix the place up though. It's just down over thataway."

Rango pointed down the road a little ways to a tall house.

"No charge, huh? That's mighty kind of you, Mister Rango, and I thank ya kindly. Good day." She smiled sweetly and tipped her hat to the lizard, then set off towards her new home.

And, what a wonderful home it was. It was dusty as hell but Marie soon had the whole place swept out. She beat the beddings and carpets clean and scrubbed at all the windows till she could see clearly out of them. By dusk the whole place was as fresh as a new house, and she plopped down onto the bed.

What a day, she thought. A lucky day. It seemed she had all the luck in the world, as of late, and the churning feelings of nostalgia began to fade as she kicked off her boots and placed her hat on the bed frame. Yawning and looking out of the window at the old bank, she plopped on the bed and fell asleep.

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><p>Out in the desert, a certain Rattlesnake Jake was doing some thinking. It was somewhat unsettling, because before Rango had appeared, he had never needed to speculate and doubt like common folk. He was an outlaw. His future should've always been clear ahead of him - one soul after the other. The events with the old mayor and his saving a drowning child just a month ago had shaken him, and now he didn't know what to do. Bloodlust was withering from his heart, and he felt lost. Maybe, he thought, he could pay a visit to Mud. Maybe that would present a glimpse of purpose for him.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: Enter, Mister Jake!

**Chapter Two**

The next morning, Marie woke up feeling peckish. She wasn't very hungry, but she was eager to meet the other townspeople. She changed into cleaner clothes, washed her face, and fixed her hair in her two long braids. The same boldness as yesterday was thumping through her veins, renewed by rest and a new home, yet muted by the residues of nostalgia from the previous day, and further hindered by the morning. The morning was _evil_.

The diner she came to was already bustling with customers. In fact, it was nearly full. It was awkward having to stand there looking around for a place to sit down, but what with everyone's eating and talking, few noticed her. The counter had no spare seats, and the half-filled tables seemed a bit exclusive. Had she slept in too late? A small desert mouse with large, hazel eyes and a black cap came up to her.

"You're a new face. Lookin' for a spot to eat, stranger?"

The mongoose smiled at the mouse. "As a matter of fact I am. Think you can help me out, miss?"

She smiled back. Her big eyes shone in the daylight. "You're pretty comely. You can eat with me an' Wounded Bird over 'ere."

They walked towards a table with a native looking crow and a crutch propped against the seat, and Marie looked at the mouse.

"I like your hair," for the little girl had two braids just as she did.

"I like yours."

"I like your eyes."

"I like your face."

They both laughed and sat down, and Marie decided that she liked the girl. "So what're ya'll called?" she asked. "I'm Mongoose Marie, from the Orient."

"Ah... East. Big place. Lots of peoples." said the crow.

"My name's Priscilla and this here's Wounded Bird. He's the Deputy. Is it true you're the one who really killed them Jenkins Brothers?"

Marie laughed with surprised amusement. "So has the news spread overnight then? The Jenkins weasels had a sister who killed 'em with just a knife," she breathed another chuckle. "That's me, sister."

"With just a knife! Is that right?" Her head whipped around to see a young squirrel waitress stood wide-eyed next to the table, about to take their order. Marie relaxed.

"That's right. A single Bowie knife against bullets from seven pistols, and I weaved circles 'round 'em all," she said, grinning, but then stopped. Suddenly, she felt very childish. She swallowed and smiled more mildly at the waitress. "What kinda grub do you recommend?"

The desert squirrel was taken aback for a moment, but then put on a servicing expression.

"Today we got pancakes on special, with blueberries or without."

"Blueberries! That's a rarity out here! I'll take a plate of those pancakes," said Priscilla.

Marie wrinkled her nose. "I don't like pancakes much. Y'all got plain eggs n' bacon?"

"Sure thing, hun." The squirrel wrote it all down. "What about you, sir?"

"Whatever fruit," said Wounded Bird.

The waitress nodded, then walked away saying, "I'll bring y'all some water as well."

Priscilla turned to Marie. "What's it like in the Far East?"

The mongoose took a napkin and a pen from her pocket. This she could afford to talk much about. "Well, sister. It's a big place like Wounded Bird said. Lots of people. There's no shortage of water where I come from, and there are trees all around. And the animals, hell, I can't name 'em all there's so many. " She started sketching on the napkin as she talked, just a rough outline of a garden, and the cactus mouse looked over.

"Wow. You's an artist! And a good one too!" she exclaimed, and Marie smiled. The crow leaned to see as well. She could see he was impressed. "Ooh! Ooh! Draw me killin' Bad Bill!"

"Bad Bill? Whozzat?"

"He's that Gila monster who's always smokin' a cigar."

She remembered seeing someone at the saloon the day before. And she knew how Gila monsters looked. "The fat one?"

"Yeah, that's 'im. Draw me over 'is dead body."

She started to draw Priscilla's bright face, then she sketched out her body in a triumphant pose over a dead Bill, his cigar still smoking next to him. She handed it to her, and the young mouse face lit up with delight. To the artist's surprise, she began running around the diner, showing everyone the napkin and saying "Look! Lookat what Miss Marie drew me!" Some laughed at the funny depiction and others were impressed at its accuracy. She returned to the table just as the white-tailed waitress approached with a tray of food and water.

"Here's ya breakfast and some syrup for the young miss. Well, what have we here? Is that Bad Bill?" She was looking at the napkin. "Did you draw this, little lady?"

Priscilla shook her head. "Naw, Miss Marie here's the artist."

The waitress set down the last glass of water and smiled at the mongoose, then walked to tend to another table. The only sounds they made then was the chewing and smacking as they dug into their food.

"Ahhhh..." Marie sighed and laid back in her seat. It had been a while since she had a full meal.

"If I eat anymore, I reckon I'll explode," stated Priscilla matter-of-factly. Wounded Bird grunted in agreement.

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><p>Mongoose Marie spent the next week exploring the town, meeting people, introducing herself, and making friends everywhere she went. They would have all been at the lake, but the days were getting colder, for it was nearly winter. A horned toad named Waffles was just as excited as Priscilla about her drawing skills, and she found herself making many sketches for the most eager. She met the strong-willed lizard Miss Beans, and observed the intimacy between her and Rango with bubbling approval. Matchmaking was not a skill she was exactly good at, but she was always eager to give love accurate directions to a needing couple. By that evening, everyone in Mud had heard the name Mongoose Marie, the artistic and deadly young woman with an immunity speeding projectiles and the strongest of spirits.<p>

She was happier than she had been for a long time, but still a small feeling of nostalgia returned to her. A tall boulder stood at the east end of town, and she sat in its shade to do some contemplating. With the sun setting and the air cooling from the midday heat, she soon began to doze off…

A rattling sound and a soft hiss shook her from her half sleep. Blocking the moonlight in front of her was a massive rattlesnake, with coils of ammunition wrapped around his body and a Gatling gun for a tail. His eyes, under his thin, black hat, were like fire. She could almost see them flicker and glow against the night, but she broke the eye contact before she became too lost in them. The eyes of cobras had enthralled too many mongooses for her not have learned the consequences. Instead she focused intently on his flexible body, twisting fluidly as he moved. In the light of the stars and moon, his scales shone and rippled. She gulped. Not out of fear...

He was looking at her with the same intensity, perplexed mostly as to what she was, and why she dozing at the edge of town. She stood up and stretched, and he realized that she seemed familiar… something that reminded him of the Jenkins Brothers that were killed about four months before...

Her dark eyes blinked at him, and without a word, she headed off to her home.

As soon as she shut the door, she found herself breathing fast. Indeed, her her heart had been beating quickly all the way home, but she'd kept a straight face and calm pace. She had never felt anything like this from a snake before, but here was this rattler: neither predator nor prey, not an enemy, and still a snake. Being a snake entitled him to all three titles, yet she found him... _attractive._ Her paws ran through her hair. This was something beyond her comprehension, and she ordered herself to calm down. The thought of those piercing eyes... _Stop that!_ Marie berated herself and forced all agitation from her body. Hadn't she killed king cobras when she was just a girl? Hadn't she made her way here all the way from the Orient? Hadn't she killed all seven Jenkins Brothers with nothing but a Bowie knife? In a word, it was all childish. Childish when she verbally flaunted her skills when she came to town, childish how she started drawing to impress little Priscilla. Childish the way she'd reacted to meeting a rattlesnake. She was a full-grown mongoose, not a hyper-active pup. With a big "humph", she went to bed and lectured herself to sleep.

Except he was hardly _any_ old rattlesnake. Rattlesnake Jake had watched the slender creature walk back into town. She hadn't shown the slightest fear of him, and he thought that maybe she had too much to drink, and that was the reason for her odd behavior. He shook his head, attempting to clear it, and slithered to the sheriff's office. Through the window he could see Rango and the woman Beans talking quietly. Jake tapped the door with his tail and looked inside. He could see they were holding hands. They looked up from the table, and astonishment passed across their faces as the chameleon came outside to talk with him.

"Well, Jake! My brother, what brings you here? We have no quarrel with you, I hope?" said the sheriff.

Jake hesitated before replying, because he didn't exactly know why he was here himself, so he flicked his tongue and lowered his head closer to the sheriff's height.

"I've been ponderin' on a lot of things these days,_ brother_, and... some things've _changed_ fer me. I've been wonderin' about wanting te find some permanent dwelling place, an fer some incidental reason I thought of Mud."

"Oh," said Rango, and folded his arms. He frowned for a long moment, and eventually Jake hissed in irritation.

"Never mind, sheriff," and in another moment he would have slipped out of the town, but the green lizard stopped him.

"Now wait, Jake. It's not that you ain't welcome here, 'specially since you saved lil' Mordecai from drownin' last time you was here... though you nearly shot off his hide afterwards..." he chuckled nervously. "But my point is that unless you can fit in one of the inn beds, there just ain't any place for you to stay. I would let you have the Reynolds' place, but… Oh, hm…"

"What is it?"

"Well, I was gonna say that you might share the house with a new gal named Marie. Ever heard of her, Jake? Used to be sister to them Jenkins Brothers, but she sliced 'em to pieces…" Rango scratched his head and looked in the direction of where Marie's house was. "In any case—"

"It's fine," interrupted the rattlesnake. "I ain't gonna be beggin' fer lodgin' from nobody. I'll use the old bank near it 'fore I can get something built."

"Well, I'm glad you're something of a changed man, Jake, but I warn ya, it's gonna get deathly cold this time 'o year, and we took apart most of the inside of that bank makin' the new one. The place ain't nothing but broken windows and half a roof."

"Who do ya think yer talkin' to?" The rattler scoffed and glared viciously at him, then made his way through the town.

However, he soon found that the sheriff was right. It was late November, and the Mojave Desert was cooling rapidly with the approach of winter. The cold pierced his scales and only just became manageable as he slinked into the old building. He coiled his body as close as he could in where the water vault used to be, and tried to fall asleep. Several times in the night he woke and had to move around a little to warm himself, and the rest of the time he spent in a half-sleep, the chill a dim but persistent presence.

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><p>The missus was furious.<p>

"You're _lettin'_ him _stay_ in town?" Rango held up his hands and backed away from Beans.

"Now, listen, honey—"

"_Don't_ you 'listen, honey' me! You find that no-good, slimy varmint and you kick him out of this town! He's a murderer, an outlaw, a—!" She stopped, frozen. Rango sighed, waving his hands in front of her face. No response. He sat down and tapped his foot, looking around the room.

"...and you _know_ the whole town's terrified of 'im! What... Oh... Not again." She put her hand to her forehead and sat down next to the green lizard.

He looked her in the eyes. "Beans, hear me out. Jake's a changin'. I'm tellin' you. Remember that time last month? Little Mordecai was drownin' in the deepest part of the lake, and couldn't no one save him except that snake. I know he done a lot of bad things in the past, but one legend to another, I'ma gonna give 'im another chance. Think, honey. If he really was turned, it could mean a great deal fer Mud. The townspeople'll warm up eventually."

"And if he hasn't changed? What happens if he's the same killer he was before?" She was calmer now. Far from agreeing with him, but reasoning.

"Like I said, I think he deserves a second chance. But if he makes one false move, does anything to hurt anyone in this town," he held her hand. "I promise you Beans, I'll kill him myself."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Sorry, I just had to put in that Korra reference in the beginning. :)**

**Slightly rewritten as of June 15th, 2012. Sorry for that, too! _ I know it's really bad, but I won't change anything major like the plot or anything. It's just I believe my writing is still maturing, and I want to improve my past, not-so-well-written bits. :\ Current readers need not re-read anything, but of course, you can if you want.**

**Thanks for R & R-ing! :D**


	3. Chapter 3: First Exchange

**Chapter Three**

Marie sat up in her bed, groggy with tiredness. Her temporary lapse in sanity, as she told herself, had taken several hours of self-scolding to control her mind once more and realize the stupidity of her overreaction. How the townspeople would laugh had they seen her, and how odd of her to react in such a way from a snake, of all things! She wondered whether he had actually come into town, and decided to introduce herself to him if he was. The mongoose yawned, stretched, and wearily started to prepare for the day.

It was late morning, she worked out as she strolled outside. The sun was shining brightly, but the air was still slightly chilly. Something caught her eye by the old bank, something that hadn't been there before, and with a jolt she realized it was the same rattlesnake she had seen last night. He was just lying there on the ground, unmoving, and she felt panic. Was he dead? Her feet ran towards the still figure. His eyes were closed.

"Sir? Are you alright? Sir?" she shook the great snake and looked worriedly at his face.

Without warning he sprang up in bewilderment, shouting incomprehensibly, and pointed his gun straight between her eyes. She froze, holding her hands up involuntarily, because a bullet from point-blank was not as avoidable as she was used to.

"Who the_ hell _'re you, and what do ye think yer doin'?"

Her heart was beating fast again, partly from fear, and partly from the exhilaration of having the rattlesnake talk to her. She didn't want to seem scared in the least, however, and looked straight into his hellfire eyes, her face reflecting his own surprised irritation - an irritation that seemed to grow in the mongoose.

"My name is Mongoose Marie. And I... You... You looked right dead there, layin' like a damn zombie!" She caught her second wind and said the next part through her teeth. "Now _kindly_ point yer gun away from me."

They stood for a moment, each sizing up the other. Had it been a few months earlier, the snake would have dashed her brains out without a second thought, but he was a resident of this town now, and not so keen to murder as before. Her cheek still annoyed him, though, and as he withdrew his tail, he fired two, three shots just so they missed her ear; but she knew they would miss more than he did, and didn't budge an inch.

He saw this, and laughed softly. "Oho... Mongoose Marie... That's mighty interestin'. I've heard plenty 'bout ye."

"Can't say the same about you. What's your name, and what were you doin on the ground like that?"

The Gatling gun rattled a little. Was she simply good at composing herself or did she feel genuinely unthreatened by him?

"I am Rattlesnake Jake." He flicked his tongue, ignoring her other question. "And what are you, some kinda prairie dog?"

She lowered her eyelids and pursed her lips. "Mongoose, you deaf cretin." Her expression was annoyed, disdainful. "Couldn't sleep well, huh? Where—" She looked past him at the bank's open doors. "What, you didn't spend the night in that _dungeon_ did you?"

He hissed. "What of it?"

Her mouth was half open with astonishment. "What— You ought to have been in a bed! It's only gettin' colder these days, and you're sayin' ya got no place to sleep?"

"Shut yer trap, woman! Ain't no chill gonna kill me," he spat.

"It almost did me," Marie yawned and muttered, then suddenly looked at him oddly, struck by an idea. The Reynolds' house was split into two floors, and she only used the top bedroom, living room, and the kitchen sometimes, but other than that there was a lot of free space.

He seemed to read what she was thinking, and sneered. "Don't bother. I wouldn't lodge with no woman, especially no sister of the Jenkins Brothers." A crooked smile appeared on his lips, and Marie felt herself falter. She didn't think her brothers' business was well known at all, but then again, she didn't know _them_ well, either.

"What... are you _insinuatin'? _" She stepped closer to the snake, a crease in her brow, her paw itching towards her knife. He arched back a bit, but the smile stayed and even widened to show his sharp teeth.

"Come now, even petty thieves know what them weasels were involved in... A woman like you—"

He didn't get to finish, because at that moment Marie cleared the space between them and had the Bowie knife at his neck.

"Now you listen, Rattlesnake Jake. I slaughtered all seven of my brothers 'cause of what they was_ about_ ta do, you hear me?" She spoke fast and low, not angrily, but deadly serious. "You'd best think on that 'fore you start labelin' trollops left 'n right. If you even _compare_ me to women of that caliber..." Words failed her, but she left them hanging as if her threat were not empty, but simply unknown.

He blinked, and almost found himself taking her seriously. Her gaze was piercing, looking to see if he understood... and, looking for something else, too, like an interrogator looks at a potential spy. Eventually she stepped back and replaced the knife at her belt, and then yawned. He couldn't help it - it was contagious, and his mouth stretched to let in more oxygen.

He turned away from her. "Suit yourself, then."

They were both bone tired from lack of sleep the previous night, and she took one last glance at his scaly body before cricking her neck and heading back to the house. There was one moment there, one horrible moment where she'd considered the possibility that he was actually working for the fox, Red Leroy - working to finished what the Jenkins brothers had started. But of course, it wasn't true. He would've taken her to the desert kit fox the first time they'd seen each other. In any case, he didn't show the slightest sign of being affiliated with that kind of work, and she wanted to trust him.

That part was strange, wanting to trust the snake, but her tired mind didn't register it. Too lazy to walk back up the stairs, the mongoose yawned _again,_ and flopped onto the couch in the living room. The rattler outside relaxed back into the sand, tipping his hat over his eyes, and the both animals let lethargy envelop themselves.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Revised as of June 15th, 2012. *bows in apology***


	4. Chapter 4: Prudence

**Chapter Four**

By the next time Marie woke up that day it was well into the afternoon. She watched the dust floating in the sunlight for a moment, then got up off her stomach and stretched. Letting out a deep breath, she headed to the pantry where a great big steak was packed in salt, and took it out along with some spices. A song she knew was stuck in her head for some reason, and she began to sing as she prepared the meat.

_If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe,_

_I'd been married a long time ago,_

_Where did ya come from, where did ya go?_

_Where did ya come from Cotton-Eye Joe?_

She tapped her foot and swung her in rhythm to the beat.

_He came to town like a midwinter storm _

_He rode through the fields_,_ so handsome and strong _

_His_ _eyes were his tools and his smile was his gun _

_But all he had come for was having some fun_

_He brought disaster wherever he went_

_The hearts of the girls was to hell broken sent_

_They all ran away so nobody would know_

_and left only men cause of Cotton-Eye Joe_

Her voice was strong and clear, though it was anything from exquisite. She could stay on key, most of the time... and keep a tempo, but that was about it. Rattlesnake Jake heard the song as he wandered back towards the abandoned bank. He peered through the open doorway and raised a brow at this young woman, who seemed less and less like the pugnacious killer he had heard others describe her as. He laughed behind her and saw her stop abruptly. She whipped around to see the snake rattling his tail in amusement. Embarrassment commandeering her body, she shanked the steak behind her so hard that the knife plunged deep into the wood of the counter. This made him laugh even more, though he knew he shouldn't, and she almost was going to remove the knife and throw it at him, but he stopped and spoke.

"Ahahah... So she ain't a prairie dog, she's a songbird." The mongoose looked sideways at him, unsure if he was just insulting her. He smirked under his dark hat at her puzzlement, and let her work it out for herself whether he was being sarcastic or not. "What was that song you was singin?"

"An old tune my brothers used to sing," she mumbled and retrieved the kitchen knife, but then she paused. "D'you want some of this?" She motioned at the steak.

"I don't need no food 'o yers. Unlike some people, I can catch my own..."

"Nah, I've lost my appetite, take it." and she tossed the big hunk of meat into his mouth when he began to object. Marie chuckled, and he had to swallow the thing whole to keep from choking.

"Damn, woman, what're ya trying ta do?" he coughed.

"You're welcome." She opened the cupboard to find a mug, and he eyed her sardonically.

"Tell me something - they say you's the one who killed them Jenkins Brothers, is that right?"

"Mmhmm."

"And ye used te killed cobras as a kid?"

"Yup."

"And ye can't carry a tune te save yer life?"

"Ye- wait, what?" she scowled in her embarrassment. "Agh! If all you is tryin' to do is make fun of me… I'll be leavin!" She quickly grabbed her hat on the counter. "You— Ugh! Go to HELL, damn viper...!" and she stormed passed him out of the kitchen.

He hissed loudly after her in confused irritation. There was no reason to be so angry, he thought.

Marie headed towards the saloon at first, fuming. _Never again_, she ordered herself. _Never again will I sing 'less I'm the last person alive._

But, as she reflected on what she did, she knew it wasn't fair. It was incredibly silly of her to overreact so to such a thing, especially when it was her own fault: singing when she knew her voice was so damn bad, and, the last thing she wanted was for Jake to hate her. ...Though it might be too late for that. So far she had disturbed his sleep, called him an idiot, threatened him with a knife, told him to go to hell...and she hadn't known him for a day. She bit her lip. Turning instead to the general store, she decided that she'd apologize later.

* * *

><p>The rattler needed no such apology. Women had said worse to his face, and frankly, he had never really cared. That was his demeanor as he slithered through the town, frightened and shocked faces gawking at him all the way. Even Bad Bill backed quickly into the saloon when he heard the rattling of his tail.<p>

"Izzit true that yer gonna be stayin' in town now?"

Priscilla, the little desert mouse, was beside him, trying to keep pace. He halted. Where had she come from?

"That's right. Ain't you scared, little missy?" he said with some derision. She shrugged.

"Sheriff Rango said you wasn't gonna take our souls ta hell no more. He says you's stopped being the Grim Reaper."

Jake's tongue flickered out a few times, and his tail swished behind him. "And you believe 'im, do ye, Priscilla?" He circled around her, coiling enough to entrap the small creature, but she only gazed at him coolly. Gasps and little whimpers of fear and pity came from all 'round behind half closed shutters. Waffles, the horned toad, was running from the scene to the sheriff's office.

"Sh-Sheriff Rango! Come quick! It's Rattlesnake Jake! H-he's back, and he's a got lil' Priscilla!" he stammered through the door, and the chameleon glanced at Beans with shock before running outside. He realized he'd forgotten the shotgun and turned to go get it, but down in the middle of the road the rattlesnake was already releasing the mouse, tossing her fallen hat back onto her head.

"Ye got nerve, gal, I'll give ye that much... Don't worry sheriff," he smirked as he moved on past him. "I ain't killed nobody yet." And with that, he tipped his hat and left the onlookers in a startled and somewhat confused muddle. Rango turned to Beans, the relief clear in face.

"Told ya, didn't I?" And he proceeded to explain to the others.

* * *

><p>Marie spent the next few days racking her brains to think of a good way to apologize. Though, "apologize" might have been the wrong word. Her real aim wasn't entirely to express her regret, but to use that as an excuse to give Jake a gift. Her thoughts jumped from idea to idea, a little guiltily so. How shameless her family would think her to be, trying to impress a rattlesnake.<p>

Sitting in a saloon table by herself, the mongoose was busy working with some charcoal on a canvas she bought. Her paws worked meticulously, careful not to smear the dark lines that arranged themselves to form the body of Rattlesnake Jake. This would be a good olive branch, thought Marie, but so deep was she in her concentration that she didn't notice a wiry bobcat at another table keeping an eye on her every move...

Hours passed, and as the sun set she heaved a great sigh and looked back at her work. She was pleased with the result, and fervently hoped that Jake would be too. In the fading light she looked over the expression of the depicted rattlesnake, identical to the one in real life - deep and searching. She stretched and wiped her hands on a napkin, then rubbed her eyes and headed home, unaware that she was being followed.


	5. Chapter 5: Kitty's Ball of Yarn

**Chapter Five**

Thoughts of the Jake sloshed around in Marie's head, keeping her preoccupied. She set down her belt and hat on a shelf near the door, and walked absent-mindedly to the living room window to see if he was there in the bank, but there was nothing through its broken, lifeless windows. She placed the canvas on the floor, sighing again. _I'm being absurd_, she thought._ This piece is an apology - nothing more. I've mistreated Rattlesnake Jake and do not want to make an enemy of him. That is all._ And she nodded to herself. Others would think it strange of this mongoose scolding and arguing subconsciously with herself, but it was how she rationalized, and it often worked. Suddenly she heard the front door open and close, making her heart jump.

"Hello?" she called into the silence, and walked back across the living room. A tall bobcat stood in the doorway, and as soon as she recognized him, she halted.

His long, grey fur was marred and flawed by many the many cuts and scars on his skin. Her eyes moved to his neck and found faint teeth marks that looked like they were still healing.

"Hello, Marie, _dearie_," he greeted her in a slight French accent. "Red Leroy's been looking for you all over. He's not too happy about what you did to your poor brothers, you know..." He moved towards her, making her back away.

For the few months dating back to her brothers' murders, Marie had been running from the many men sent by Red Leroy to track her down and bring her in. The bite marks on the cat's neck were her own that she had made not long ago, but evidently she had not bitten hard enough. Him and the boss of Fox House were cunning, no doubt, but she wondered how she had been tracked down again. Perhaps her name had carried a bit too far off since she came to Mud. Damn, damn, damn, she cursed her arrogance.

"I nearly killed you in Death Valley, Croy Bolin. Why go through all this trouble to bring me in? I can't be that _exotic_ for him to lose so many men."

"_Au __contraire_, mon cherie. It is no trouble at all. A certain client has paid good money for you, enough to buy an entire town. Though it wasn't the regular order Red Leroy gets... Such a price for just one girl, not too pretty, not particularly alluring..." he mused. And yet, in a way, you are worth more than all the women in Fox House." He grinned, flashing his crooked teeth. Who? She wondered to herself, but she didn't dwell on it for long. There was the known adversary here to deal with first.

"I'm flattered," said Marie, and reached for her knife— but it wasn't there. Bolin had backed her away from the shelf next to the door, and there her Bowie knife lay, useless. Dismay filled her heart; all she had now was her teeth and wit. He noticed, and triumph gleamed onto his face.

He had a pistol, but made no move to draw it. Instead, he lunged towards her, grabbing her arm and twisting it towards him. Her back foot simply moved to his side and she rapidly whipped her paw on top of his, using the spin of her hips. Then she _slammed_ down on the nerve in his wrist, hearing him yelp and let go, and she spun away towards the shelf. Everything was just a reaction, no time to think. But no sooner had she turned when she heard the click of the pistol. At first she was confused, because she had assumed that he never intended to shoot her. It was the concept of damaged goods; a woman whose body was riddled with bullets was not exactly desirable.

And in the second it took for her to hesitate, look back, and realize her mistake, he saw the chance in her distraction to step in and stomp on her tail, hard. There was a loud _crack_ as boot collided with bone. She cried out in pain and fell back, but he caught the collar of her shirt and stood over her, cackling wickedly. Before she could do anything his paw flicked out, exposing sharp claws, and he slashed at her abdomen, ripping through fur and muscle. Immediately her blood started to swell and spill onto the floor. Her tail, her waist... The pain was agonizing, and it was all she could do to stop herself from sobbing. He did need her alive, but he did not want to shoot if he didn't have to. Bullets had a nasty habit of getting stuck inside and killing the victim.

"It's over, _cherie_. Do you know what the best part is? Your client, what a joke he is! He doesn't even care about 'impurities'." His wild, cat eyes bore into her trembling face, watching her register what he meant. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Haha! Yes, it's over! I've wanted to do this for a long time...!"

The mongoose gritted her teeth. "Damned… Fake…Frenchie!" She spit in his face with the last of her diminishing strength. Her head was spinning. She wanted to tear his throat out, to crack his ribs open and crush his demented heart, but he slammed her onto the ground, and she barely had time to groan as her head hit the floor before he was on top of her, his eyes filled with malicious intent. The next moments of her life would be filled with anguish and brutality, and she hated him almost as much as she hated being powerless to stop him.

All of a sudden, there was a burst of gunfire, and Croy Bolin fell back, body rigid, tail erect, eyes wide.

Marie's eyes rolled to see what had done it, but she could not make out the figure through the star-lit doorway. She tried to get up, but the pain in her side made her gasp and fall back. Blood was pooling around her on the floor and her shirt was drenched in red. The cut was very deep. She could feel the muscles, unable to work when they were cut in half, bleeding freely. Damn it all. She couldn't die here, she couldn't lose consciousness... The taste of iron filled her mouth. Someone was yelling her name, but she couldn't respond...

_I __wish __I'd __been __more __careful, _she thought._ I __wish __I'd __killed __Bolin __the __first __time... __I __wish __I __never __shouted __at __Jake __so..._

"I wish..." Mongoose Marie murmured, and her mind faded into oblivion.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Slightly edited as of June 15th, 2012 to improve the sorry excuses I thought were good sentences. :I**


	6. Chapter 6: The Fox Need Not be Cunning

**Chapter Six**

Angelique stared down at the floor of the Reynolds' House with disgust. Her boot traced the red splotches of blood in the doorway as if to conjure their owner from the floorboards, but he was long gone. She felt like kicking them in frustration. Croy Bolin was still alive, and by now, far away from Mud. Just the thought of him poured anger and fear over her heart. He deserved worse than death, considering what he had done to her, but the wretched cat seemed to have nine lives. Despite the efforts of the sheriff's search party, they could find neither him, nor his body. Not even Wounded Bird could track him much further that the blood trail he left into the desert.

No one knew why the bobcat had done such a thing to the newcomer. Everyone was considerably clueless on the whole matter, except that someone had almost killed Mongoose Marie. Rango, being the sheriff, was especially impatient for answers, and had he asked, Angelique could have likely told him more than her. At the moment, however, the only one she wanted to converse with was the mongoose, and when she regained consciousness, they would have a lot to talk about. She took a deep breath from her cigarette holder, and let it out in a long, grey sigh.

Marie was in her bed, fast asleep. Sitting beside her was Beans, carefully dabbing some salve onto her wound. Doc had managed to stop the bleeding and get some healing ointment, and under his specific instruction, Beans cleaned the deep scratches and stitched them up. With the salve periodically being applied, the mongoose had healed well so far over the day that she had been unconscious. Her tail had only been dislocated, and with a sharp jerk the bones snapped back into place. The desert iguana placed the lid on the jar and re-bandaged her waist just as a dusty Rango came in through the door.

"How is she?"

"Still asleep, but doin' fine, I think."

He heaved a sigh. "Couldn't find no trace o' the culprit. Jake said he was a bobcat, though I can't think of any I've known or heard of. Oh, I'm tired... Who is it that did this...?" He sat down in a chair next to Beans, and she took his hand.

"Honey, you should get some rest. It's no good tirin' yourself over Marie. She'll be better in no time, and the wildcat can't get far."

"That's the thing, Beans, it's not just about her, it's about the town. If anyone can just waltz into Mud, bust up who they like, 'n prance back on out, what kinda sheriff am I? The people 're countin' on me te protect 'em... It was lucky Jake was there this time..."

She blinked. She didn't know what to think of the rattlesnake now. "So he really has changed, has he?"

He winked at her. "You'd better believe it."

She rolled her eyes to show how much she believed that. While they sat there talking, Marie stirred a little in her slumber. It wasn't enough to attract their attention, just a twitch and a small turn of the head. She was dreaming.

It was before she had come to the Mojave Desert. She was still in China with her family. The air was filled with raucous joy... her older sister was getting married.

"Kyren, are you happy? You know that is most important." she had asked her, and her sister had smiled back and said yes... But for a moment, it seemed her smile was a little sad...

Colors of red and gold clamored through the dreams. With Kyren's rich new husband, they had suddenly become aristocrats. Marie didn't particularly like him. He tried vainly to get along with her, saying they were brother and sister now, so come to him if she needed anything, ok? But, she loved her older sister, and her older sister loved him, so she tried to endure the grandiose nightmare her life slowly became. She had to learn the proper etiquette for being a lady and must never, ever act out of her place.

"Sit up straight, Marie. Do you want an arched back when you're older? Fix that ugly expression of yours, Marie. Spoon in the left hand, Marie. You're not a barbarian. _Don't_ swish your tail like that, Marie. Are you listening to me, Marie? Marie?"

"Will you SHUT UP?" she yelled, punching the speaker. "Wha— Oh _shit_! Sheriff Rango! I so sorry!"

She was wide awake, speaking in an oriental accent, and realized now that it wasn't her crabby, lizard eunuch who was calling her name, but Rango, and he was clutching his cheek.

"Dang, I say she's rejoined the world o' the livin'." Priscilla stood beside her, watching the laughing Miss Beans try and ask if him if he was ok.

"I-I didn't mean to, I swear, I'm sorry!" she shifted back into her normal accent and tried to sit up, but winced at the effort and had to support herself with her arms.

"Pfff... Hah, heh, it's ok, darlin'. He ain't hurt, hehe... Right, honey? I done the same thing once on accident."

"Yes, fine, I'm fine," he said, and managed a weak smile. Priscilla jumped and quickly scampered out the door.

"Miss Marie's awake! Hey, everybody! Mongoose Marie's alive an' a punching and..." they heard her yelling as her little feet ran down the stairs.

An immense feeling of gratitude and belonging lit up the mongoose's face. They all smiled at open doorway.

"Well," said Beans. "I suppose you must be hungry, and thirsty too.

She thought for a second. "Not... Really... It can wait. More importantly, what have I missed? How long have I been out?"

"Just over a day or so. You were cut up pretty bad, but the wound's all sewn up and Doc got some salve to help it heal. Yer tail's fixed too."

"Just a dislocation," Rango confirmed. "The man who attacked you; we couldn't find hardly a trace of 'im. Jake said he'd taken a few bullets, but past the Joshua tree—"

She interrupted. "Jake? Is he the one who saved me, then? Where is he?"

They were about to reply when the door opened. She turned her head hopefully, but it was only a fox. Angelique, she thought. The only thing she knew about her was that she didn't get along well with Beans, and she could see that on their faces now. The sheriff, however, had suddenly became impassive, sitting between the two women as if he were very busy thinking about something.

"Hello, Angelique."

"Beans."

A short silence followed as they eyed each other.

"What business do you have here?" said Beans, and a kind of relief swept over the room, like a danger had graciously been avoided.

"I 'ave come to talk with Marie."

The door closed behind her as she walked to the side of the bed. The mongoose was confused. She hardly knew the fox, much less had anything to say to her.

"It is about the bobcat..." Her eyes narrowed. "And the one he works for: Red Leroy. There is much I 'ave to tell you."

Now Beans was the one who was puzzled, but both Rango and Marie snapped into focus. Him out of curiosity, she out of shock. It occurred to her that her French accent was uncannily similar to Bolin's, or... maybe it was the other way around.

"How... How do you know that name...?" she asked faintly.

Angelique puffed a breath of smoke, walking towards the window on the other side of the room. Wisps of grey swirled around the curtains as she opened them and looked out.

"He was my lover."


	7. Chapter 7: Angel who Escaped Hell

**Chapter Seven**

Incredulity and apprehension pricked Marie's skin like cactus spines. Her mind was blank, waiting for what the fox had to say. She was still gazing out the tall window across the room.

"Maybe it is best if you 'ear this too," she said to the two lizards sitting in their chairs. They glanced at each other, then glanced at the mongoose, but she just stared dumbly back.

Angelique sighed. "Red Leroy is the fox responsible for ruining the lives of hundreds of women. He was never a good person - he is evil in his very bones. Croy Bolin and the late Jenkins Brothers worked for him, I think you know..."

"Yes..." Marie nodded slowly. Rango and Beans were still somewhat perplexed. But then something else also happened. At the mention of the Jenkins Brothers, Angelique looked at Beans out of the corner of her eye, and they locked gazes for a split second.

"It must 'ave been years ago now, since I was first with Leroy... I was a fool to think he cared for me." Her paws were clenched tight on the curtains, her elegant face tight. "He— all of them— his men are sadistic, lascivious... The Jenkins Brothers and Croy Bolin are all cruel, but Red Leroy - he likes to see pain. He _relishes_ it. He is the worst - a _devil_. I have seen what he does... Women, beautiful women, who had families and lives they 'ad been plucked from like flowers... And young girls too, barely out of childhood, with their futures stolen from them..."

The whole room was silent save for the strained voice the fox. Marie made a grimace of anger and disgust. Rango was frowning, and Beans's expression was of pity - the same sadness as when he had been humiliated and driven out of town by Rattlesnake Jake. The fox took a deep breath and turned, her own countenance hard.

"They took me to Fox House. It is nothing but a _hell_," she nearly hissed. "The women there 'ave lost hope, and those who 'aven't are broken and abused until they do. I was so lucky," she let out a short breath, a laugh, almost. "It was you who gave me the chance to escape," and she held up a hand to stop Marie, who was about to speak.

"There was a meeting in the late spring, but it was not until today that I remembered what was said. Most of the men were there, and... a man was talking about you, Marie. He did not say your name, but I know now who he meant. He said... What did he say... He was paying a lot of money for your capture, and then the Jenkins Brothers revealed they had a girl who fit his description. She was living with them. And the money, so much money, I remember seeing their greedy eyes every time when mentioned the gold."

Marie was breathing quickly. It was like she was listening to her brothers all over again, hearing them speak things she was not supposed to know, but she did.

"It became pandemonium. Leroy was foolish to gather so many and yet talk of such grand prices in front of them. Five of us managed to escape in the chaos. The others were caught. I... am the only one left." Angelique sat down and looked straight at the mongoose. Sorrow in her eyes, and yet there was an air of resilience around her.

"This is what I 'ave to tell you, because they know will know you are 'ere, and they will know you are wounded. This is certain - Croy Bolin is alive and will reach Fox House if he has not already. I do not know exactly what they will do, but I know they will not stop until they 'ave you. When they 'ave you, they will show no mercy, and whoever is paying them is likely no better."

"Who is he? Did you hear them say his name?" That was Rango, voicing Marie's thoughts.

"No name. Not even a face."

The mongoose bit her lip and thought for a moment. "So, you're saying I should leave? I guess... If Red Leroy were to send more people—"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Beans. "Angelique, if all you're tryin' ta do is run this girl out for some peace of mind—"

"That is not what I came 'ere for." The fox said plainly. "The last thing she should do is run off on her own in her state. Marie. I came to tell you what I knew about who is ultimately behind all this, because it is not Leroy. I am only sorry I do not know who it is exactly."

"I know that, Angelique, and thank you. You're sayin' I'm not just any runaway they're trying to retrieve... It makes sense. Bolin said something similar when he got me, but, I don't know who it is pulling the strings. If he's as rich as you say he is, there won't be an outlaw in the west unwilling to work for him."

"Well, that's where the law comes in, don't it?" The sheriff spoke up, smiling and showing his teeth. "Ain't no blueblood gonna scare nobody in my town. Miss Marie, you rest up, and don't worry 'bout a thing."

She smiled gratefully. Had she been standing, she might have bowed. "I will be more careful. It was stupid of me to set down my knife and allow Bolin to follow me."

"And at least until you're better, you'll need protection. Doncha think, Rango?" asked Beans.

"Wait, _protection_?" Marie blurted out contemptuously.

"Ah, not protection, per se, just..." Rango tried to think of a euphemism. He couldn't. "Look. If this Red Leroy sends another of his goons, you might not be as formidable as you would've been. Ya gotta listen to reason."

She scrunched up her lips. If there had been one thing she had kept from her pompous life back in China, it was her honor. She had portrayed herself as an indomitable killer, a woman of superior speed and skill, not a careless, ostentatious phony. Already she could imagine the disillusioned townspeople gossiping about her. No, it would not do for Mongoose Marie, nearly killed in her first confrontation in town, to be further degraded by having, what— a babysitter?

"Sheriff, thank you, but I must decline." Her voice was hard, with an authoritarian edge to it. "I assure you I am _perfectly_able to take care of myself, even in this state." And with that, she threw off the bed covers, swung her feet to the floor, and stood up slowly. She ignored the painful throbs from her abdomen and the blood rushing from her head, and spoke to the sitting chameleon. He looked at Beans, who turned to Angelique, and some unspoken words seemed to pass between them.

"Marie, what if they send more than one? What if they send someone to take you in your sleep?" said the fox mildly, putting the cigarette holder to her lips and looking at the mongoose.

She gave a huff of impatience. "Look, I made a few mistakes, but I won't make them again. I was just imprudent, is all. I'll keep my knife with me at all times, even when I'm sleeping, and I'll lock the doors 'n windows at night. Really, all I need to do is take some extra precautions. Protection is for... Helpless people! And _that_, is reason."

They could not argue with that'; her insistence beat back every ounce of pity they tried to offer, and presently the sheriff agreed. They resolved not to do anything until Marie was fully healed, and to keep a sharp eye out for suspicious activity. Eventually they turned to other, idle talk - mostly what she had missed and instructions Doc had given regarding her wound.

* * *

><p>Priscilla was outside the room, her ear pressed to the door. As soon as she could hear the scraping of chairs and footsteps she rushed to hide behind some curtains. Beans, Rango, and Angelique walked past her, not even noticing the bright eye that watched them surreptitiously. A small grin of sly triumph crept onto her face. She'd heard every word they'd said.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8: The Return is not so Pleasant

**Chapter Eight**

**Author's Note: **I want to thank everyone who's been reading and also those who have left such nice and helpful reviews. :) I am trying very hard to make the story interesting and to not pace it too fast, though I really want to. xD Please continue to leave comments and suggestions - every time I see a review alert email in my inbox my heart leaps. In any case, enjoy the story!

**(Disclaimer)** Rango and its characters do not belong to me. Marie does, however.

* * *

><p>The portrait! Mongoose Marie remembered while eating her lunch and froze, mid-chew. A sense of restlessness came over her, and she pushed away the plate of nopalitos on the table. She moved as fast as she could to the living room, her eyes darting wildly, like a mother for her lost child, but the white canvas was nowhere to be seen. Vainly she walked around searching for it, until her wound started to hurt. Sitting down, she tried to think. She had definitely placed it in the living room the night Croy Bolin came, but it was not here. Someone must have taken it... But who? Her mind ran through a series of possibilities, dismissing them with an impatient huff.<p>

"Well, shoot." she muttered and scratched her head. In any case, an apology and a thank you were still in order for the rattlesnake, gift or no gift. Might as well do it now, she thought.

The second she opened the door, a cold gust of wind blew her braids past her face. She started to shiver but did not want to go back inside to find a jacket. The only thing on her mind was to find Jake. Her elbows stuck to her sides to keep from losing body heat, and she walked the short distance to the old bank. Not wanting to intrude, she looked through the broken windows and spotted the rattler. He was moving, arranging, building something... A bed, it seemed. His back was to her, but she cleared her throat loudly and he turned around to face her.

"Mongoose Marie? What is it ye want?"

She looked humbly at the shards of glass on the window's edge and took a deep breath. "The sheriff told me you's the one who saved my skin... I wanted to thank ya, and, I di'nt treat you right last time, so—"

"No need." He cut in. "Next time, tell yer little love buddy te keep it down."

Her mouth opened involuntarily and her eyes snapped up to meet his. "_Love __buddy?_That _frog_? He's not— He is the worst kind of slime bag there is."

"I'm surprised ye didn't git 'im yerself, then."

"I'd misplaced my knife," she muttered.

The rattlesnake snorted, then narrowed his eyes in a sort of glower. The wind had stopped, but his expression sent her shivers beneath her fur. There was something else, too. Through the window, he looked... terrible. His voice was gruff and hoarse, the bags under his eyes were heavier than usual, and his movements were stiff instead their normal fluidness. It occurred to her that the temperature outside couldn't be much different than inside the bank, and she was about to offer him a place in the Reynolds' house for a second time, but he spoke.

"You know what they're _sayin_' about you, girl?"

She hesitated, slightly confused. "Who?"

"The whole town, ye stupid ferret. They're sayin' how Mongoose Marie's another _fake_, same as before... That she can't do half the things she says she could. Same as before..." he repeated. Then he smirked. "Couldn't 'a said it better myself, if ye ask me."

"I couldn't care less what a bunch of—" She stopped herself, almost calling the townspeople a bunch of hicks. "I couldn't care less what they say. I know I can take care 'a myself, but I know you did me a big favor, too. So I came to thank you, stupid... legless lizard." she finished lamely. A part of her was angry at the snake's words, and another was desperate to prove them wrong. The rattlesnake's face became inexpressive, his flame-like eyes only betraying the slightest... Surprise? Amusement? It was hard to tell.

"If that's all ye come 'ere for, ye can get goin'." he said tersely, still gazing at her indifferently.

The sudden dismissal made her frown slightly.

"Go on, woman. Git."

"Well, um, thanks again. " Her voice seemed somewhat disappointed, then she stepped away from the broken window.

Jake flicked his tongue as she left. When was the last time someone had thanked him? He laughed darkly. The question was absurd. Not even when he had saved the child from drowning did anyone do much more than scream and flee, and that was the way he liked it. This girl was a strange one, and it unsettled him. His attention returned to the straw at the floor, and he set to work moving, arranging, building...

* * *

><p>On the way back to the house, Mongoose Marie hugged her elbows and winced as she walked. Something else was hurting her wound, but she didn't know what. And why was the sky so cloudy? She sighed, her thoughts dwelling on Jake once more. Then she saw a figure standing in front of the Reynolds' house. Would Red Leroy send another man to retrieve her? So soon? Her paw flew to the hilt of the Bowie knife. She would be ready this time. She would show that Mongoose Marie was every bit as capable as she had so bragged herself to be. But as she came closer to the house, she saw it was not Croy Bolin or any unfamiliar face, but the sheriff.<p>

"Sheriff Rango?" she asked blandly, masking her relief, and sinking back into the surly mood she had when contemplating the snake.

"Ah. Marie, I was just comin' to see how you were doin'. You been moving around easily enough?"

A few minutes ago she would have been irritated by his inclination to check up on her, she didn't need it, but, she was too sullen. Quite frankly, she was feeling a little sorry for herself. Receiving no answer, Rango caught her furrowed brows and adjusted his hat.

"Ehm... Why the long face?"

The mongoose sighed. "Jake, is bein'... No, I mean, tch." She clicked her tongue. "He didn't hafta be so damn snappy with me... I did go there to say sorry and thank you, geez..." A swift kick to the porch with her boot sent wood splinters flying, and then the force of it rebounded on her hip. With a little yelp of pain, she fell forward, flat on her face on the cold porch.

"Whoa there, Marie! You okay?"said Rango, and moved forward to help her. She lay still for a few seconds and numbly registered a change in his accent, and pushed herself up with much effort.

"Beh, I'm fine. Ow. Shit, somethin' else is botherin' my cuts. Might be the cold... You want some tea?"

The sheriff accepted her offer and came into the house after her as she opened the door for him. He followed her into the kitchen, holding his hat with both hands. On the table was the nearly finished plate of cactus nopalitos, but they were taken by Marie as she moved about the kitchen, finding some cups and putting the kettle on. He took a seat and presently she checked the knife at her hip and sat opposite of him.

"He's a bitch." she decided, looking sideways away from him. "I guess I shouldn't expect much else. He's vain and temperamental and seems he don't give a damn for anything 'cept his own image."

Rango coughed. "He saved your life, didn't he?"

"No," she said bluntly. "Not my life, just my... I know what you mean. I'll admit he thought he did, though. ...That's the only thing that don't make no sense." And she sighed again.

"You've been sighing an awful lot, you know."

"No, I haven't." They sat silently for a while, before the kettle started to whistle and she got up to make the tea.

"Don't be so hard on Jake. He used to be a great outlaw, only just settled down."

She laughed. "Don't be hard on him? Since when did Rattlesnake Jake need others to speak for 'im?"

"Since he's changed and can't admit it. I had a long talk with him; he's... Going through a phase, if you will."

"That's a new one. You're tellin' me he's gone soft?"

"No, no." he corrected her, and took the cup of chamomile given to him. He sipped the hot tea. It was sweetened with honey. "What I'm a sayin' is Jake's a _little_ confused right now. He's workin' things out. Murder an' such don't please his soul no more like it used to, though if you do piss him off…"

"Better to be pissed off than pissed on." she nodded, and they laughed.

The sheriff stood up and took the salt shaker. "Lemme explain it like this."

What followed was a skit of sorts on Rattlesnake Jake, from the merciless killer he had been, vehement in his job, and then was granted a seed of what resembled a conscience ever since he had been saved by hero of Dirt: Sheriff Rango. She delighted and clapped through his illustrious expressions and ease in changing character. The salt shaker held a good resemblance to the rattle of the snake's Gatling gun.

"Well, I didn't know you were one for acting." She said, impressed.

"Oh, he's a real thespian."

Beans was leaning against the kitchen doorway, smiling in amusement. "I've been lookin' for you all over, Rango."

He hopped off the table where he was performing and clasped her hands.

"Haha, well... You know. I came to check on Miss Marie here and a little improv worked its way into my visit."

"Sorry I've kept him so long, Beans," the mongoose winked at the desert iguana. "I made some tea, would you like some?"

"I'll have a cup, thanks." The two lizards sat down as she fetched the tea and told Rango to go on.

He took a pipe out of nowhere and puffed the imaginary tobacco thoughtfully, thinking where to pick up where he left off.

"Ah, yes... Rattlesnake Jake." His voice and air was that of a learned scholar, complete with a British accent. "He is a murderer. But killing is no longer his ruling passion. Keep in mind he has a temper and a gun, still, even if he's not as touchy as before. And then again..."

"Make up your mind, sheriff." Marie raised her eyebrow.

"Ok, let's keep it simple. He's still ruthless, but not as much as he used to be."

"That's still mighty vague," said Beans, her eyes a little narrowed. "In any case, it was a bad idea to let 'im in town."

The chameleon turned to face her. "Now, Beans, we talked about this. He ain't done nothin' bad yet, hell, he's saved two lives—" Marie gave him a hard look. "Er, one life, little Mordecai, 'member?" And god knows he could do some good fer this town."

She scoffed loudly. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Why _is_ he here, sheriff," the mongoose folded her arms across her chest.

He looked at her, seeming to debate on whether to say something or not. Beans was sitting with the tea cup in her hands, looking at Rango indifferently.

"He is here to think." he stated plainly.

"To think." she repeated, an eyebrow raised. "...Does that mean he'll be leaving as soon as he's finished _thinking_?"

"Maybe," he admitted, looking down and adjusting his hat with one hand. "But it is my belief that he also needed a shelter for the winter. It may be that he'll want to stay in town afterwards, I don't know. In any case, he is not a major threat to Mud." He glanced reassuringly at Beans. She narrowed her eyes.

Marie sighed. "Maybe he'll decide to settle down and have a wife and kid, and work full-time... at the diner... as a singing waitress."

They were quiet for a moment, then laughed at the ridiculous, fluffed-up version of Rattlesnake Jake that Marie had conjured. The rest of the evening was spent talking and laughing, sharing stories, the churning thoughts she had grumbled over long forgotten. But at the same time spirits were rising in the Reynolds' House, Fox House was experiencing a similar rise in tension.


	9. Chapter 9: Red Leroy's Domain

**Chapter Nine**

Far into the Mojave Desert, a great distance from the town of Mud, there was a place that most referred to as Fox House. The "house" was really more like an estate, with separate buildings and small pathways grandly established over the sand, and a length of brick wall to keep intruders out, or prisoners within. The main house contained rooms for the girls: each one with two floor mattresses and some shabby blankets. At this time, some of the women were in their rooms and some were in the bar. Most of them carried on their work like clockwork dolls, all enthusiasm feigned. Guards were either stationed outside the entrances or in their own hall separate from the main building. Then there was the office, from where a certain Frenchman ran Fox House at most times and took a girl for himself at others.

But at the moment, Red Leroy was sitting in his desk with a frown, almost a grimace, on his thin face. In front of him was Croy Bolin, bandaged and bloody, but breathing evenly and staring straight at the floor.

"So she 'as friends, and zat is why you 'ave botched zings so," said Leroy. His accent heavy and tinged with spite. "I am most disappointed, Croy. I did not expect you to fail so _pazetically_."

"My apologies. It will not happen again."

"For your sake, it better not." he snarled.

"Sir, I saw something of interest in my short time there... I saw Angelique."

Leroy nearly dropped what he was holding. "Angelique? Why, she escaped years ago! Are you certain?"

"I am. I recognized her at once, and over'eard others address her by name. She looks the same as she did when she was 'ere."

The fox stood up, at a loss for a few seconds, then he slowly started to pace the room, muttering too fast and low for the bobcat to hear. He focused on the grain in the wood flooring until he could stand the crescendo of rambling no longer and told his boss the last of the news.

"Sir— There is, another thing..." and from behind his chair he produced the white canvas of the portrait. "She was working on this for hours... I thought she'd never finish. I nearly 'ad her, but _he_ is the one who shot and nearly killed me."

"Rattlesnake Jake..." whispered Red Leroy, and he looked Bolin in the eyes. "And Angelique is zere. Oh, what a nuisance! You 'ave been seen, so zey know who you are, and Angelique no doubt will tell zem if zey do not. Agh, _J'en __ai __ras __le __bol!*_" He banged on the table in frustration and turned away. "I will 'ave to tell our_client_ it will take a few months more to obtain her, she will be too cautious until zen. ...And ze snake. You are telling me she is under ze protection of _Rattlesnake __Jake_?" A helpless laugh escaped from his lips. The bobcat could do nothing but sit and stay silent, looking a little scared.

"We underestimated zem, Croy... But, zey underestimated us, too. Conventional methods are not enough. I cannot depend on a normal retriever. Yes, we will 'ave to wait. But come spring, I want you to send in... _her_."

Bolin fidgeted nervously in his seat. "Is it really necessary? I'm sure a _team_ of retrievers and I—" but the expression on the fox's face stopped him.

"It is better to be safe zan sorry, my friend. I will not 'ave you blundering after ze girl a second time. If we must use every last resource to obtain her, zen zat is what we shall do."

"I-I see... The reward is well worth it. And with _her_ there, we cannot fail."

"Yes." Red Leroy lowered himself into his seat and curled his tail. His claws tapped the desk for a few seconds. "We'd better not."

It was just another job, and a well paid one too. Jake would have enough money for a few months at least once he was finished. So, why was there the tiniest bit of reluctance? It was easy to ignore, but it was there, all the same. He remembered Rango in the town of Dirt, or Mud, as he heard it was now called. Would the sheriff try and stop him if he was here? Jake shook off those thoughts. He had a job to do.

The tailor's house was wide and short with a tan roof and no paint on its wooden frame. A sign above the front door said "Custom Tailoring" in bold, black letters, and below it, a "Closed" sign. Jake's gun rattled in anticipation. _Time __to __get __to __it._

The snake smashed through the small door, leaving a splintered hole behind. He headed straight down a hallway into a large room, and saw the tailor, a squirrel, and his two sons. Fabric lay about the room, in rolls against the wall, in stacks, and several different mannequins of different animals stood across the floor. He didn't give the squirrels a chance to move. They had hardly realized what was happening when the Gatling gun whipped towards the tailor and fired a series of shots into his chest. He gave a yell and fell back, stone dead. The two boys, nearly adults, it seemed, looked at their father in shock. Jake rounded on one of them and clicked his gun.

"You son of a bitch!" The taller squirrel yelled, his voice high with fear. "Yer gonna pay for what you done to our pa! You an' that Dev Benton!" He grabbed a nearby pair of scissors and hurled them at the rattler.

"Pathetic," he hissed, and shot it out of the air before it could embed itself in his scales. "Yer pa ain't paid his dues, boy, and my employer's fed up and given 'im what he had comin'." His tongue flicked out like a black ribbon, tasting the fear in the air. "Unfortunately, that also means tyin' up loose end like you."

Their eyes widened with terror - the common reaction to a death sentence from the Grim Reaper, and then he took both their souls. He lunged at the one who had thrown the scissors at him, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and injecting venom into his bloodstream. The squirrel clawed and groped at the snake's head before he started to twitch and scream in pain. A few seconds later he was dead. The other tried to run, but a bullet caught him straight through the skull, and he dropped at once. Blood was seeping into the carpet - red stains around the lifeless bodies.

_Well, __that __was __another __job __done, __though __pitifully __easy,_ he thought. A simple tailor and his sons did not need Rattlesnake Jake to meet their maker; it was overkill. But perhaps that was not the true intention of the man who'd hired him. Being an outlaw as feared as him sent a message: "Mess with me, and I'll send Rattlesnake Jake after your soul." The snake hissed in annoyance. He would have to make sure Benton knew he wouldn't be able to call on him like a damn lackey.

The was a clatter and a crash behind him, and he whirled to see another squirrel, a girl. _Damn_. He had been sent to kill the entire family, but he'd never been told about any girls. There was something wrong with her, though. She fumbled forward, around the mannequin she had knocked over, her arms outstretched like she was feeling for obstacles. His tail rattled. Was she blind? Apparently so, because her eyes were open, but when she came within a foot of him, arms feeling, she didn't show the slightest sign that she could see him.

"You are Rattlesnake Jake." Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She faced the noise of the metallic rattling. "You've killed my family, haven't you? My fathers and my brothers..."

Jake did not answer. He lowered his gun and slithered closer to the squirrel. She looked up at the sound of his movement, a tear running down her cheek.

"I ain't gonna kill you, girl. Hell knows I'd be damned fer killin' a blind girl."

More tears spilled from her unseeing eyes. He turned to leave.

"Wait!" she shouted, and he looked back. She pulled a kitchen knife from her long skirt and held it up, brandishing it like a sword. "Y-you can't get away with this! You can't get away with any of your killin's!"

Jake snorted. "Put the knife down 'fore ye hurt yerself. I've fought pygmy's more formidable than you." Her hand didn't waiver, and she shuffled forward towards him a few steps. He hissed in warning, not wanting to shoot the blind girl if he didn't need to. It would be shameful to do so. But instead of moving to attack him, she turned the blade towards her chest, and before he could shout, she had plunged it deep below her ribs.

Red drops of blood fell from the knife's handle, her paws still held tight around it. The snake stood there, bewildered. What was she thinking? The damn squirrel was going to die now whether he could help it or not. Her face looked straight ahead, contorted with the pain she must be feeling.

"Help me... take it out... please..." Her voice cracked. Jake shook his head in disparagement. _What __a __waste __of __life._ Then he wrapped a section of his tail around the knife hilt.

A jerk of movement, a flash, and a bang - too quick for the snake to react. He recoiled and hissed in shock and fury.

"_What?_" He spat, and then he saw the smoking pistol in her hand.

"Oh... I missed..." she said quietly, and collapsed to the ground.

It was then that Rattlesnake Jake boarded the train of doubt and speculation.

* * *

><p>*<em>J'en ai ras le bol <em>is a French expression of exasperation meaning "I'm fed up!" or "Enough is enough!".


	10. Chapter 10: Warmer in the Cantina

**Chapter Ten**

The advent of winter loomed over Mud, drawing closer like the freezing of ice: impossible to track or measure, and yet suddenly, you realized it was there. Many of the townspeople prepared for hibernation, the cold-blooded animals eating up and closing shops until spring. Flocks of birds could be seen flying south in the sky. Coal heaters, new at the department store, were selling like hot cakes since they were introduced. Marie herself beat the rush and bought one, even though she had a fireplace. Cold billowed through the town, mostly because of the season, partly because of fear in the rattlesnake known to be staying in the abandoned bank. Not all denizens of Mud shared the confidence of Sheriff Rango. Only a few, including Priscilla and Wounded Bird, were not put on edge at the mention of the "serpentine devil".

Marie herself could not understand why they were scared of the rattler. On the contrary, she had a growing respect for him, and admired the air of ferocity and danger he commanded. But then again, she had not seen the murder of Sheriff Amos, nor the other numerous atrocities the snake had caused for the town.

There wasn't much to do - she had stocked up enough food to last her until spring and obtained a nice supply of fuel for the fireplace while the temperatures dropped. And still, her wounds were hurting. It was just a dull ache, and she assumed it was because of the chilly climate, but it was persistent. She was worried that Red Leroy would send another retriever, a whole team of them now that he knew where he was, but she kept those feelings well hidden. Despite that and the cold, an unknown cheeriness bubbled in her stomach like champagne bubbles. Sitting near the warm fire seemed to make her restless instead of calm, as it usually did.

In the midst of Doc's instructions for her recovery, Beans had never said that she _couldn't_ drink. She wasn't an alcoholic, she was glad of her resistance to strong spirits, but much like a fat man loved cupcakes, a mongoose loved a good drink. She thought this as her head lay on her shoulder for a moment, watching the coals in the fire, then she got to her feet, fetched a thick, silk anorak, and shuffled out the door. She walked down the main street until she could see the prominent shape of the gas can saloon.

Inside there was a full out brawl. Marie stood in the doorway, being very still and frowning in puzzlement. There was no way she could make her way to the bar counter. And look, Buford wasn't even there. She spotted him dodging a very angry looking lizard, Crispin - the one who liked to play cards. For a moment she considered joining them. A nice fight was always a thriller. But then she remembered her wounds. Better not overdo it if she could help it, she thought. Annoyance pursed her lips, somewhat smothering the cheeriness inside her.

"And _where_ the Sam hill am I supposed to get a stiff drink, now?"

Gordy, the turkey, stumbled towards her into the nearby wall. Clutching his head in his feathers he drawled something that sounded like, "Try the cantina.", and he swung back into the fray.

"Oh. Thank you," she said, as if the situation was much more trivial, and she stalked out of the saloon.

The cantina was not as shabby looking as most rest of the town. A large jug had two windows and a door with "Cantina" above it in red letters, while a much larger clay pot behind it had "Live Music" painted on the side. The inside of the cantina was warm. The main part had just a simple bar plus a few small tables, and past it a doorway to the larger part which contained a stage and several more larger tables. Right behind the bar counter, the wall was one big shelf of bottles and bottles of gin, wine, rum, and many other spirits. Much more extensive than the saloon.

The barmaid at the counter looked up when Marie walked in. She was a raccoon, wearing a Mexican dress - white with colorful embroidered flowers. She would've been very pretty, except that she looked aged a little before her time, like many of the other townspeople. Barely visible lines of white flecked her fur and dark brown hair in a single braid along her back. Some subtle wrinkles seemed to have formed at the edges of her eyes and between her brows. Despite this, Marie guessed they must be around the same age, and the coon smiled at the sight of a customer. A rat she recognized as one of Bad Bill's lackeys, and the rat she's met her first day in town, was also in the cantina He was snoring at a table with several bottles near his head. Considering the amount of choice in drinks, she was surprised there weren't more customers.

"Bienvenida! Welcome! What can I get for you?" The barmaid had a confident, light voice with Mexican accent, which seemed to suit her figure.

"What's the strongest drink y'all have?" asked the mongoose, her face inquisitive.

"Ah... Moonshine?" Her eyebrows lifted for a second. "At this time of day? Well, es _real_ strong, though. You sure you wan' it?" She hesitated at Marie's nod, then gave a sort of half smile before looking at the shelves bottles behind her. "You wouldn't be Mongoose Marie, would you, mija?"

She blinked hard once. "I am. An' who might you be?"

The coon turned around holding a glass and a jug-like bottle, like a miniature version of the cantina. "My name is Paula," she said with a smile, flashing a chipped tooth. "I heard a lot about you. Is it true you was de one—"

"—that killed the Jenkins Brothers? Yes. Spare me the story."

"Oh... Ok. Who da guy dat try to kill you, ah? I heard that it happen just a few days ago."

Marie paused, then gave a shrug and gulped down half the glass. She frowned. She took another swig.

"Do you have anything stronger?" She asked, avoiding the other question, slight disappointment in her voice.

Paula's mouth fell open, her eyebrows coming together. "You're kidding me." She uncorked the jug of moonshine again and sniffed at it. Her body recoiled abruptly, as if she had been pushed backwards. Her tail went rigid and her eye twitched for half a second.

"Ay... chica! She asks if we have something stronger. No, señorita, we don't." She gave an impressed smile. "But you's trying to change the subject. Well, I guess it's not my business anyway," she added at the mongoose's pursing lips. She stared at her for a few seconds, holding the jug. "You's got strange eyes, mija. Like... Like a goat. Or a cow."

Marie gave a wry grin. It was not the first time someone had commented on her eyes. Unlike weasels and other look-alike animals, mongooses had horizontal, rectangular pupils, which was creepy to some and mesmerizing to some others.

"They help me see around me," she explained. "With these, I can read a book and still see to the sides. It's real helpful when you're huntin' or get in a brawl."

"Yeh..." The raccoon was still staring, but then she seemed to shake herself. She leaned against the counter on her elbows. "Killin' dem Jenkins Brothers, de snake comin' ta town... 's like da sheriff all over again."

She put her elbows on the counter as well. "Sheriff Rango? What do you mean?"

The raccoon grinned a little lopsidedly. "Lemme tell you da story, mija. When he came to town, we had no water. He was like a hero, say he was from de west. He even say _he_ was de one who kill dem Jenkins Brothers."

Marie's eyebrows rose significantly as she went on. So that's what Chorizo had been talking about, when he called her the real killer of the weasels.

"Ya, mija. He seem pretty great at first. He killed a hawk his first day here. The mayor made him sheriff."

She listened with curious attention. Last night she had learnt about Jake's story, and now she was learning Rango's. Paula's retelling wasn't nearly as entertaining as the chameleon's, but it was interesting, all the same. She laughed at the sheriff's blunders - "forming a possum", the theatrical apprehension of the water thieves...

"But then, he got run out of town by _Rattlesnake Jake_." Her voice nearly whispered his name. "Nasty thing to see. Everyone saw dat Rango was a fake. He never done none of da things he say he did. Da snake told 'im: 'If I see your face in dis town again, I'll take your soul straight down ta hell!'"

"Wait, so why is he still here?"

Paula continued, smiling in the distance now. "He came back, mija. He came back and challenge de snake. He saved us from da old mayor and brought all de _agua_ back to da town. A little strange, he is, but a hero too."

"So... That's what he was goin' on about.," she mused, remembering what Jake had told the last time she spoke to him. _They're sayin' how Mongoose Marie's another fake, same as before... _"And what happened to Rattlesnake Jake?"

"Oh, he left, take da old mayor with him. But now he's back too..." She looked at Marie thoughtfully, and she tried not to fidget under her stare. Hastily she took another sip from her cup.

"Is it true he saved you? From da cat who attacked you?"

The mongoose stared at her glass in her paw. This subject was making her uncomfortable. Finally, she heaved a sigh and nodded. The edges of her mouth raised ever so slightly, but she leaned back to look at the ceiling so the barmaid would not see. Paula stopped smiling, but a twinkle in her eyes remained.

"Well, mija. You done with da moonshine?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, yeah." She paid the barmaid. It was rather expensive despite being a somewhat weak drink... to her, anyway. Then she stopped. She counted her money. In front of her, Paula was putting away the jar and washing the glass, but she took no notice. The mongoose counted her money again. It couldn't be, not so quickly.

_God dammit, Leroy. _She thought. _You couldn't 've paid my brothers a little more? _The funds stolen from her dead brothers were dwindling. Curse her lack of forethought. Sure, she had taken the money, but not half of her possessions including art supplies, clothes, and the like, all of which she had to re-buy in coming to Mud. And she still owes Doc for patching her up. She had probably just enough to keep her until spring, as she might not have to buy much more food, but after that, she would definitely need some kind of income. "Starving Artist" was a title she viewed with derision, though it was what she may very well be once her money ran out. She put her forehead into her paw, grumbling about hunting and odd jobs as the barmaid walked back her way. Art was the last thing she wanted to do for a living. She had a knack for building stuff, but there wasn't anywhere that needed a crafter's hand. Maybe she could ask...

"Paula," she said clearly, her head still in her paws, her eyes closed. Paula turned towards her.

"Yeah, mija?"

"You wouldn't happen to know of any job opportunities, would you?"

The raccoon pondered for a moment, her eyes looking up for a moment. Then she gave a little "Oh!", and snapped her fingers.

"Well, we got a job right here. Good for you, I think. Haven't had anyone in months, I guess dat's why business's been so slow..."

"What are you talking about, Paula?" Feelings of hope rose within her. Whatever this job was, Paula seemed to think she was the one for it.

"Ah, mija. I'm talking about música! The last singer left in the drought and she never come back. You can sing, can't you?"

The hope in Marie's chest sunk into her stomach. "No," she stated sadly. "Not really."

"Ooooh, she is modest." The raccoon teased. "You are Mongoose Marie. You tell me you can't sing?"

"I _said_ I can't." Irritation seeped into her voice. The barmaid looked at her skeptically, then have a shrug.

"Qué pena... You look like you would be a good singer." She sighed and gazed at the rag she was holding. "This cantina is—"

But Marie never found out what the cantina was, for at that moment the raccoon stared past her, something like shock and anger on her face. She turned in the direction she was looking, and saw the table at which the rat Chorizo had been, only it was empty.

"_PINCHE PENDEJO TACAÑO_!" *

The scream made Marie jump and whip around to face the barmaid once more. She was furious, a scowl seemed to be etched onto her face. With an abrupt movement she threw down the rag and stomped over to the table.

"Mira! Look at this!" Her paws motioned to the empty bottles laying on the table. "Five bottles— _five bottles_ of Corpus Whiskey! This is de last time he gets away with this! I'ma go straight to da sheriff this time! Ay, _Madre de Dios_..." She trailed away into Spanish, speaking quickly with a guttural sort of edge, and Marie was left to sit quietly on the counter and watch the pacing raccoon.

"Em... Paula..." She said, trying to calm her down. Either the raccoon had an explosive temper, or Chrorizo had committed some serious kind of larceny. Or both. "If you want, Paula, I can go tell Rango what's happened..."

"What?" Her eyes snapped to the mongoose. "Oh, mija. I'll go with you. I donno _why_ he never done nothing before, when I see him, I'll—"

"No, I think it's best if you stay... Don't worry, I'll give him a good what-for."

She smiled reassuringly as she hopped down from her stool and headed towards the door.

"If you see de rat, Marie..." Paula was picking up the bottles, still scowling. "I don care if you slice 'im up same as you did dem Jenkins Brothers."

Marie gave a sound of recognition and stepped once more into the cold, wondering if the chameleon was even available or already in hibernation.

* * *

><p>* <em>Pinche pendejo tacaño<em> - Google it.


	11. Chapter 11: Baron Von Hoosenschitzel

**Chapter Eleven**

Rango was not immune to the laws of nature. He, like Beans and countless other cold-blooded animals, prepared for their winter-long slumber in their warm dens. Instead, as Marie stepped into the sheriff's office, she found Wounded Bird sitting at a table with Baron Von Hoosenschitzel. He was a brown, long-haired cat with a large mustache and a knack for playing cards, she knew. He wore a black-grey vest over a long-sleeved white shirt and a black top hat. She glanced briefly at him and spoke to the crow.

"Sorry to interrupt, but is the sheriff here? I want to talk with him."

The baron gave a big harrumph and turned to look out the window at nothing in particular. Marie ignored him, suddenly not caring about interrupting any conversation between them. _They're sayin' how Mongoose Marie's another fake, same as before... _

"Sheriff is with Miss Beans. Preparing for Big Sleep. I am deputy, acting sheriff." Wounded Bird was gazing at her with his hooded eyes, as indifferent looking as ever.

"Well, ok. I—"

"Is about Red Leroy?"

"No, it's about—" She stopped, completely derailed. "_How do you know about Red Leroy?_"

Wounded Bird blinked. Baron Von Hoosenschitzel looked at Marie, curious as to what had caused Marie's reaction.

"Priscilla tell me. You not the one who tell her?" said the crow.

Marie looked from side to side, thinking furiously and tugging at her bangs. She had not told anyone about the cunning, cruel fox's persistent attempts to kidnap her, except for the sheriff, Miss Beans, and Angelique. Had they been telling people? It was not as if it was deathly secret, but she did not want it let loose that Mongoose Marie was being sought out by the boss of an infamous whorehouse. She tried to calm herself down, taking a deep breath. She had told Jake she did not care what the townspeople thought about her, and though it was not entirely true, she felt it was the most dignified way to deal with these things.

"It don't matter. I'm here to report a certain rat who happened to dine-and-dash—" _More like drink-and-dash, _she thought. " —at the cantina a few minutes ago. The bird shuffled to his feet, and with the help of his crutch he walked to a desk with many papers on it.

"Rat - Chorizo. Bad Bill's gang." he grunted, and wrote something down on a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," said Marie. The baron was staring out the window again, waiting for the deputy. "Yeah, just him. I think... Well, Paula said this wadn't the first time, so I guess he musta drunk a good amount of spirits without ever payin'."

"Bad Bill's gang always stir up trouble. Never learn lesson." He finished writing, and looked through the window that the baron was staring out at. "Rain coming, big storm. Day after tomorrow, maybe... Your wound hurt?"

Marie raised her eyebrows. Instinctively she moved her paw to her stomach, to which the claw marks extended from her left side. "Actually, it sorta is. 'S like a dull sorta pain, though. Why? D'you think it's 'cause of the rain?" She could see it making sense. It was not uncommon for wounds, old and new, to become a little sore on impending rain. At the moment the air was somewhat moist, and she had been wondering about the great amount of clouds outside.

They were all staring through the window now. Baron Von Hoosenschitzel was the only one sitting, his elbows on the table and his paws clasped in front of his face. Marie could feel her thoughts wander, staring at the sky, dark and grey, even though it was high noon. _If it's gonna rain_, she thought absent-mindedly, _Jake's gonna be even colder. Ha. I dunno how he can survive these conditions_. Her head was tilted slightly, and the thought floated in her head for a while in the silence.

"Wait." she said aloud, the meaning of the thought slowly coming to her. "Wait."

The heads of the baron and the deputy turned in her direction.

"How _can_ he survive?" Her eyes flitted to find the deputy's. "Wounded Bird, that old bank won't shelter anything from the storm. The whole place'll freeze over— it's gettin' colder every day..." He forced her voice to be a thoughtful calm, but she couldn't help but feel a little rise of panic. The day after tomorrow, he had said. Less than two days before the rattler would become a long, coiled popsicle.

But then... She was being ridiculous. He could take care of himself, couldn't he? _He_ was Rattlesnake Jake. And what the hell was she getting so worked up for? Ruthlessly, she pushed her emotions under control. In any case, the snake's welfare was not her business, and she knew from experience, namely her aristocratic life, that people did not take kindly to nosy busybodies.

Wounded Bird saw the alarm in Marie's eyes turn to discomfiture, before she fully composed herself again. He might have seen a slight reddening under her fur... His brow raised for a second.

"Snake must find new shelter, or fix old one." His gruff voice not indicating he saw her fluster.

"Leave the devil be. He can deal with his own sodden problems."

That was the baron, nearly growling in a scornful, pompous voice with an English accent. His large mustache moved up and down as he talked. She looked into his eyes with distaste. Until he had spoken, she had decided not to get too involved, like he said. But somehow, his words voicing the action, his haughty tone as if he was describing an undesirable and unsatisfactory student... Something not unlike anger rose in her throat.

"His own sodden problems? How can you say that? I don't suppose you like the snake, but how could you leave 'im to that sorry excuse of a shelter with a storm coming? You'd have 'im 'mull through' the freezin' cold, never mind that he's cold-blooded."

The baron gave an indignant snort, nearly shocked by her outburst. "How? The same way he _murdered_ sheriff Amos, and sheriff Skippy, and countless others! I don't know if you can get it through your _coolie_ head, woman, but that _snake_—" He spat the last word, "is who we call the Grim Reaper."

Marie stood there silently near the door. She had no doubt that the rattler could be dangerous, that he could kill without a second thought; but so could she, and this wasn't exactly a sweet town on the prairie. There wasn't a soul old enough to walk and talk that didn't know how to use a firearm. Her eyes looked the baron over. Coolie, was she? She felt an icy furor at the slur on her origin.

"_You're_ a _fool_, Baron." Her voice was cold and hard. "D'you think the sheriff would let Rattlesnake Jake say in town if he thought he'd massacre us all?" He was about to retort, but the deputy intervened.

"Enough." He glanced at Baron Von Hoosenschitzel. The mongoose took her chance.

"New home... Or... Materials and stuff to fix the place. Do you know where I could find either of them?" She rested her chin on her fingers thoughtfully and gave a defiant glance at the baron.

"There is construction site, ten minute walk from here. Northwest from clock tower. Maybe they finish building houses, maybe they have materials."

She remembered the tower was just down the road from the sheriff's office. It also had a wind vane at the top of it.

"Thank you, Wounded Bird." She offered a small smile of gratitude, and he nodded in acknowledgement. With a last cold glare at the baron, she moved out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Aiya! Tomorrow is the last day of vacation. How sad. :( Anyways, from here it's like one big roller coaster for Marie until she finishes what she's set out to do. :3 Ahhh, what am I talking about? Enjoy the rest of your winter break, people!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12: Path to the Big Sleep

**Chapter Twelve**

"But you can spare that bit 'o wood, can't you? You just said that cart's surplus."

Marie pointed at a platform cart holding rectangular planks of wood. In front of her was a squat little rodent with bulging eyes and buck teeth: the head of construction at the site. Behind him were rows of structures and houses, some half completed, most of them still just wood frames, but a few seemed finished. The head of construction adjusted his hard hat and looked up at her unapologetically.

"Ain't nothing here somethin' we don't need. Besides, 's against policy to give out materials. Every scrap 'o wood's been bought on a budget, can't waste any of it."

_Liar, liar, liar._ "But I _heard_ you— Oh, forget it. Can I _buy_ it, then?"

The rodent folded his arms. "Our buildin' materials ain't fer sale, neither."

"What about the finished houses? I assume that they can be bought?" she growled sarcastically.

"They ain't ready fer residents to start living in them. They'll not be finished fer some months."

Months! The little rodent was becoming more and more infuriating with every lie through his teeth. Marie wanted to kick him, and herself. Why had she told him she wanted to fix the old bank? Everyone knew very well who currently lived there. And it didn't help that he was the one who saved her from Bolin when she had so widely proclaimed her skill. _Stupid people, can't see past their own fear 'n prejudice_, she thought.

Her mind raced through the possible ways to obtain the cart when there was a loud crash and a sound of splitting wood. The head turned to where it had come from. A large beam in one of the building frames had collapsed, which in turn had caused other beams to break and fall.

The effect on the head of construction was dramatic. He jumped and gave a loud yell, then began to run towards the scene, shouting at the nearby workers angrily. Marie didn't hesitate. As soon as the rodent was far enough, she grabbed the handlebar of the platform cart and pushed it as fast as she could back towards the town.

She was barely on the main road when the wounds at at her stomach started to throb painfully. The cart was heavier than she thought, and she had to walk slowly to catch her breath. Each step she took was a tremendous effort. Hopefully the construction workers would not realize it was gone until she had used the wood, and then no one would dare to take them back once they were on the devil's den. Past the diner, the clock tower... The old bank seemed so far away.

She had planned to convince Jake to let her patch up the walls and roof, but now she wasn't sure it would be so easy. In the first place, she had to get there, and that was becoming increasingly difficult. And as she came into view of the bank, her plan became more and more laughable. Why would he accept her help? The baron's words imposed an even more intimidating image of the rattler in her mind. The Grim Reaper did not seem so approachable as before; not because she was scared for her safety, but because the idea of his needing her help would no doubt earn her more dislike from the snake. _Oh well_, she thought. _It's gonna be hell to to get to the damn place, so he better damn well listen to me._

"Whatcha doin', Mongoose Marie?"

Marie stopped completely and leaned against the cart to see who was speaking to her. She saw the big, inexpressive eyes of Priscilla, the young desert mouse.

"Hey, girlie. I'm just... I'm just pushing this cart down the road... Yup," she panted. Then, remembering Wounded Bird at the sheriff's office, she added, "How did you find out about... about Red Leroy and that other stuff? Who told ya?"

Priscilla gave a genuinely confused look. "What're ya talkin' about?

_Ooh, the girl can lie._ The mongoose scoffed. "Don't play dumb, girlie, Wounded Bird told me you knew... Uh huh, that's what I thought," she said at the mouse's startled eyes.

At her words, Priscilla stayed silent for a moment, then broke into a small smile. "Well, shoot. Ya got me. But you should really work on yer house security. I was hangin' outside the bedroom door and didn't nobody notice. Izzat what you got them wood planks for? To barricade yer house 'gainst the bobcat?"

The mongoose pondered for a moment. Even in her most paranoid moments since her last encounter with Croy Bolin, she hadn't thought to protect her house more than a lock on the door and windows. Extra reinforcement, as far as she was concerned, was not necessary as long as she was awake and had the Bowie knife at her hip, and she _was_ being careful about the latter. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she was being cocky. But, she had other things to deal with now.

She shook her head. "I'm takin' this lot to the old bank; gonna fix 'er up." She glanced at the heavy cart. "'S just a bit harder than I thought, is all."

Priscilla blinked. "Yer gonna fix the place Rattlesnake Jake's in? Can I help?"

Now Marie was startled. The little aye-aye seemed to understand Jake was not as dangerous as most of Mud saw him to be. She smiled, a little proud of her. Together they reached the rusty doors of the old bank in a matter of minutes. Priscilla wanted to go inside with Marie, but she told her to run along.

"But I wanna help," said the desert mouse, keeping her voice low, because they were just outside the bank.

"That's the problem, sister. He's the baddest outlaw there is. Two girls who wanna _help_ Rattlesnake Jake— that's likely to set 'im off, or at least hurt his pride," said the mongoose, her voice just as low.

"To hell with his pride."

"That's the idea. But still, girlie. In China, they make one helluva deal about savin' face."

"So how do ya expect 'im to listen to you? He'll say he 'cn deal with his own problems, I'll bet."

Marie put a determined look on her face. "This is an exception: for him to swallow his pride and listen to what I have to say, not for you to come in there with me. It's good that you want to help, and I know he needs it, but it's gonna be tough enough with just me in there. I'll _make_ him listen, but it might be harder to convince 'im with the both of us."

And with that, she turned swiftly, opening the doors to face Rattlesnake Jake.


	13. Chapter 13: Alternate Path

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sleep. It was harder to catch than some of the most slippery outlaws in the west, Jake thought. He flitted in and out of half consciousness, grumbling at the temperature, thinking sleep was bound to come eventually. Holes in the walls and ceiling were like spotlights, letting in rays of clouded sunlight which actually only seemed to make the place colder. The broken windows, if they could still be called that, offered no protection from the wind as it came through in icy, piercing gusts. Jake was in a corner of the wide space that used to be the Bank of Dirt, before it was half destroyed by water and a new one was built. The snake lay in coils on a makeshift bed of straw, his black hat tilted over his face. His eyes were closed, but he was awake, contemplating many things while waiting for sleep.

When spring came, he would probably leave to try and find work. Not the regular hit jobs, he was simply tired with those. He enjoyed the thrill of a good gun fight, of staking his life on his speed and skill, but when people paid him to raise their own image, thrill or no thrill, he was done taking orders from anyone. The phrase "gun for hire" passed through his mind, and he gave a quiet hiss of scorn.

The double doors creaked open. He heard light steps across the wood floor - not too soft as if they were trying to be unheard, but not loud enough to startle him awake. It wasn't the deputy, nor the sheriff, then. Either would have called to him immediately. He heard a deep intake of breath, and opened his eyes.

Under the black rim of his hat, he could see the boots and tail of the mongoose. She was another thing to contemplate. He knew what she was involved in - Red Leroy, the Jenkins Brothers - every outlaw knew the kind of business they ran. Though, she didn't look like that kind of woman, which only made her more of a mystery. A mongoose from halfway across the world, supposedly adept... He looked up and met her eyes.

"Not you again," he said, somewhat amused. To his mild surprise, she didn't fidget under his gaze, only blinked back steadily. Again, he had to wonder if she were simply good at hiding her fear, or actually not afraid of him. The light coming from behind her cast a shadow on her face, making her pupils like coals in the whites of her eyes.. "What've ye come fer this time?" he asked.

"...I was wonderin' if you need some help preparing for the winter sleep," she said, and he could see that was not exactly what she'd meant to say. She cringed, then seemed to think how to correct herself. The snake scowled, his fire eyes blazing.

"Help? I don't need nobody's help, woman."

"No, wait. Hear me out." She held up her hands to stop him from speaking. "What I meant was, I found some old wood planks, and I thought that this place could use some patchin' up, is all. I just wanted to ask if you'd let me do it."

He stared at her suspiciously. Her face was sincere and obstinate, waiting for him to respond. He gave a snort, raising his neck stiffly so she had to look up at him. Was this her way of saying thank you? If it was, he didn't need it the thanks— he'd told her that, and he didn't need help for anything, either

"An' what do ye need ye do that fer? Don't tell me it's cause you think I'm a bit _chilly_. Just 'cause I saved your sorry skin don't mean ya gotta try doin' me any favors."

Marie's brows furrowed. "This ain't about no remuneration, snake. Lemme tell you something the whole town's hoping for. In less'n two days there's a good chance it's gonna rain, and unless you do somethin' 'bout this here bank, there's a good chance you'll freeze, too. This is only the beginning of winter, Mister Jake. It's cold, but it's gonna get colder."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle. As if he didn't know what the town thought about him— as if he cared! The girl talked to him as if he were not perfectly able to shoot her down in a fraction of a second. He would not let her shame him by repairing the bank for him. After chasing off the bobcat who attacked her - he'd be twice damned if he showed any vulnerability. God forbid, at that rate, people might think he'd on his way to turnin' _respectable_. Best send her off, he thought, but her wide legged stance and stubborn face told him she would not be dismissed so easily. He was tired, and eating her or whacking her out of his sight seemed too much of a hassle.

"Stupid girl. Thinks she knows everything. Don't ye know snake's 're meant to survive the cold? Do they teach ye anything in China-school?" he asked sardonically.

Her temper flared, making her face scrunch up. He had to hold back a smirk. Really, he thought, she was too easy to put on edge. A gleam of triumph flashed though his eyes.

She did not notice. "Look, _Mister_ Jake." Her hands balled into fists. "If you won't do nothin', and your damned pride won't let others help you, then you might as well deserve to freeze." she spat.

The snake only looked back coolly. "If you're gonna to be temperamental, I ain't gonna waste time talking to ye. Go home, woman. I've made it clear I neither need nor want yer help."

Her dark eyes glared at him from the shadow of her face until finally she took a step back, turned, and walked out. He heard a clunk of wood and heavy retreating footsteps.

Jake let out a long breath, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. He'd expected more of a fight, but maybe she wasn't as stubborn as he thought. The mongoose's demeanor was somewhat unsettling. It wasn't her lack of fear in him - that was uncommon, but not unheard of, usually by foolish, cocky men. She seemed almost as if... But no, that was silly. He was tired. He needed sleep. A cold breeze drifted through the window, and his eyes narrowed against it. Yes... Sleep was bound to come eventually.

* * *

><p>Marie gave a frustrated kick at the platform cart and stomped on, not bothering to take it with her. She had gotten halfway to her bedroom before she realized what he'd done. She cursed herself for being so blind.<em> China school, temperamental<em> - jeers like that we're not supposed to get to her. He'd set a clever trap of sorts, and she'd fallen for it. Shuffling back down the stairs, she solemnly reflected on the last few moments. She'd really gotten ticked off too easily, walking out in a foul mood, when that was his goal all along. What really made her want to kick herself was that this was far from the first time something similar had happened. How many times had her temper been stoked by empty insults, causing her to turn away from a task she'd set out to do? The snake had nearly succeeded in putting her off her course, but now that she knew, or at least thought she knew, the real meaning of his affront, it had the opposite effect.

She was even more determined to help the rattler. No one else would do it, and why shouldn't she repay him for what he'd done for her? It didn't matter that he didn't want his help; she was certain he needed it. So, what could she do now? It was early evening. A plan was necessary. She gave a sigh, swishing her tail and pulling on her ear as she headed back out of the house and down the main road. This was the kind of behavior her sister always shook her head at - going on an all-for-it campaign that was completely uncalled for. A small smile lit her face at the thought. And yet, somewhere, there _was_ a really worry for the snake...

As she passed the undertaker's, she noticed something in the corner of her eye. A small figure — several small figures — were scampering along the porches of the shops, following her. She was relieved to see they could not be men under the pay of Red Leroy - they were much too small. Her face gave no sign that she could see them as she continued forward, but through her wide-pupiled eyes she recognized the young ruffians of Mud. Dutch the rat was leading the others with his slingshot in hand. The stout little squirrel Mordecai with his head brace, Cletus the raccoon, and the two Joad rabbit brothers all followed him. It was obvious that they were tailing the mongoose, because every few steps they would look at her indifferent face and grin at each other mischievously. Curious to see what they were up to, she stopped next to Willie's general store and pretended to look at the signs, while watching the boys across the road.

They stopped almost as soon as she did, half hidden by a barrel in front of the tailor's shop. After a few seconds, Dutch's head and shoulders came into view above the barrel. She frowned a little as if she were concerned with a certain price sign. At that moment, Dutch lifted his slingshot, stretched it back, and fired. _A hundred years too slow, boy._ Her arm snapped up to catch the small stone he'd shot, and she turned to face the boys, grinning madly.

"Thought you could sneak up on Mongoose Marie, you little rug rats?" she sneered.

They peeked out from behind the barrel, shock and a little fear in their faces.

"I told you, it would not work." The matter-of-fact voice of Priscilla appeared as she stepped onto the porch of the tailor's shop. "Didn't I say, Dutch?"

The rat moved his hat and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "M-my grandma said she's a phony. That she can't catch bullets, so we's wen' an' tested it, see?"

"Your grandma's knows as much as a pile of dung. She's got a mustache, she does. I'd expect better of y'all to believe that malarkey." she sniffed.

Now this was interesting. Here was Priscilla giving the boys a good what-for, and rough and tough Dutch was actually looking ashamed of himself, as were the others. Marie wanted to laugh, but she also appreciated the little mouse defending her honor. She walked across the street and glanced at the tailor's sign. It was closed for the winter.

"Thanks, sister. You're just the person I was lookin' for." she said.

"Why? You need help after all?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." The mongoose looked at the silent group of boys, and a wry smile slowly grew onto her face. She had an idea. "Say, where's Boo 'n Lucky?"

They glanced at each other uncertainly. Then Cletus spoke up, his raccoon tail swishing behind him.

"Boo's goin' inta hibernation, 'n Lucky's at home 'cause he was playin' with them firecrackers again."

"Oh well, no matter. You all will do just fine."

"What're we gonna do, Miss Marie?" asked Priscilla.

She bent down so she was closer to their height, and they came closer to huddle around. They looked at her and Priscilla, their faces reading, _How did we get into doing something?_, but still following her example.

"Ok, this is what we gon' do. We're gonna fix up the old bank." said Marie.

The Joad brothers looked at each other. "_We_ ain't goin' in there. Ain't _none_ of us goin' in there. That's the devil's den, that is." They all looked at Dutch, who looked at Priscilla, who looked at Marie. She sighed.

"Priscilla, you ain't scared, too, are ya?"

The mouse blinked her huge eyes and looked from her to Dutch. "A bit. But I sure ain't a coward like certain people."

That caused him to start. Marie noted the profound attention he seemed to have in the cactus mouse, and smiled inwardly.

"There's nothin' to be afraid of." she said. _Sorta_. "Rattlesnake Jake wouldn't even eat y'all." _Mostly cause you're so small._ ...But it was true. The snake wouldn't harm them, she'd make sure of that. Their faces looked back at her skeptically.

"I don't know about these parts, but back home, the boys usually got more backbone than the girls, not the other way 'round." she added casually.

That did the trick. The boys squared their shoulders, but then Kid Joad, the taller, older rabbit spoke up.

"Wait, hold up." he said in his small but gruff voice. "Even if we's brave enough ta go in there, patchin' the whole darn place is a lot of work." The other kids nodded vigorously in agreement. "Whatchu gonna pay us?"

Marie raised an eyebrow and looked at Priscilla. "Sweets...?" she asked hesitantly. Priscilla nodded.

Mordecai piped up. "How many?"

The mongoose thought for a minute. The question was, how much could she afford?

"Five sweets." she said, starting low. "Each."

"Ten."

"Deal." She grinned - exactly as she predicted. "Well now, boys. Here's the plan."

They huddled even closer, whispering and discussing for many minutes. Soon the young boys of Mud became excited at the prospect of braving the devil's den and helping Mongoose Marie, who was not as their disdainful parents described. Not to mention they would have a fortune of sweets afterwards. Priscilla was her usual, state-the-facts self. Marie had the impression that the girl could read aloud one of Edgar Allen Poe's more morbid stories, and she wouldn't bat an eyelid.

"I thought you were gonna talk to 'im," she said. Marie scratched her head.

"Yeah, well, you can imagine that didn't turn out too well." She shook her head. "His loss. Now we're gonna have to get rough."

"But why don't you do that bit yerself?" That was Jasper Joad, referring to the plan.

"Because I'm not up to a lot of moving right now; I got three gashes in my side that won't let me do so much as sneeze." she replied, exaggerating a little. "Now, you've all got the plan, then? We'll meet at the Reynolds' house tomorrow mornin'."

They all agreed, and as it was becoming dark, she told them to go home and go to bed. Priscilla said goodbye and followed them down the road.

Her hand at her belt, just in case, Mongoose Marie nearly skipped her way home. This was, in the very least, thrilling. The rattlesnake would not freeze this winter and, though he would thank her for it and might try to bite her head off afterwards, she was determined as ever to follow through. _When the going gets tough, the tough gets going._


	14. Chapter 14: Lights Out

**Chapter Fourteen**

Oooh, dear god, she did _not_ want to get up. Mongoose Marie lay in her bed, trying to keep warm under her blanket. The air around her was icy cold, and the last thing she wanted to do was leave the comfy warmth of her bed and prepare for the day. Maybe she could hibernate too, to sleep all winter... Just like Jake...

Her eyes snapped open. That's right: Priscilla and the other kids were going to help her with the rattlesnake today. Cursing the cold, she pushed herself up and off the bed, leaving the the blanket at the last second. What time was it? The clock on the wall read a little past ten o'clock - Priscilla and the boys would be here in less than an hour. Her white nightdress was tossed off and her day clothes were tossed on - some denim jeans and a long-sleeved oriental shirt that was supposed to be for men. She had to roll up the blue sleeves, but it was thick and warm. Putting on her belt with the knife in its sheath, the mongoose quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, and braided her hair. There was one more important thing she needed to do before the others arrived. Grabbing her hat and unlocking the front door, she hobbled quickly in the general direction of the candy shop.

Many minutes of haggling, a subtle argument, and a passing of coins later, Mongoose Marie was nearly broke. There was hardly enough money left to buy a drink, but she pushed the thought out of her mind, telling herself she would find work later. The kids would be at the Reynolds' house any minute, and she tied the bulging bag of sweets at her belt. Sugary goodness of all colors gleamed through the transparent wrapping, tantalizing to any sane child with a sweet tooth.

She arrived at the house to see that the boys and Priscilla were already there, standing and sitting on the porch. The Joad brothers had matching argyle sweaters to which their squinty eyes glared at periodically. Mordecai and Cletus were bundled up in jackets, and Dutch clutched his slingshot through mittened hands. Priscilla looked up when she heard the mongoose's footsteps, her own dress replaced by a navy blue coat. She shifted something in her hands behind her back. The others looked at the mongoose as well, and she saw their eyes fly to the bag of candy at her hip. She shifted her weight on her feet, letting it swing a little.

"Everybody here, then? Do y'all remember the plan?"

"Yeh, we do." said Kid Joad, chewing on a piece of hay.

"Who's got the torches?"

"I got 'em." said Mordecai, holding up an armful of torches.

"A'ight. The tools?"

"Right 'ere." said Cletus with a toolbox of hammers and nails.

"We're ready." Dutch gave an eager grin and stood as tall as he could, his yellow eyes glancing at Priscilla. She seemed not to notice him.

Marie stifled back a laugh and turned her head towards the bank and it's broken windows. "Ok then." She huffed a breath. "Let's go!"

Concocted through Paula the barmaid's story, much input from the youths of Mud, and her own ingenuity, Marie decided the plan was nothing short of strategic genius. First and foremost, the snake had to be rendered unable to stop their actions - which meant they were going have to knock him stone cold. They would not, of course, sneak into the bank directly through the front door to do this. Back when Rango came to town, Paula told Marie about the bank robbers who had infiltrated the water vault by digging tunnels. With the boys' help, they soon uncovered one of the openings in the middle of the main road. Once inside, they lit the torches and made their way by map to the bank.

"Must be ghosts down 'ere." said Cletus, looking at the tunnel walls warily.

"Maybe they're friendly." muttered Jasper Joad sarcastically, but he looked around him too.

"Ooh! My grandpa told me a ghost story once. It was about a mouse who never ate anything 'cept pecans, until one day, he run out of 'em, and he died." The raccoon stopped like he was going to say more, but didn't.

Finally, Priscilla spoke up in he silence. "That's the worst ghost story I ever heard and it ain't even a ghost story."

"Huh. Well, it's not like you 'cn do no better." he sniffed.

"She could make you piss your pants, I bet, Cletus." Dutch growled. Priscilla's eyes widened and stared at the back of his head as they walked. The passed many series of pipes and eventually went through an aquifer with an endless depth of water passing under the stone platforms at their feet. At that time Marie was sure they had taken a wrong turn, but she acted as if she knew exactly where they were going. No one spoke for a long time until the mongoose abruptly stopped in a small, rocky cavern.

"Ok. Should be right about here." Their eyes searched the ceiling for an opening. She frowned.

"I believe..." said Priscilla slowly. "Beans said something about the sheriff snuffing out his torch with 'is hat and settin' it on fire. This ain't the same place as where they came out, a'course, but all the same..."

They looked at her, then looked at Marie. She shrugged and plunged her torch into the dirt, the boys following suit. Again they looked up, and as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they saw a spot a light shining down a little ways from them.

"Nice call, girlie." Marie smiled wonderingly, her head tilted up, and she started to climb the short rocky wall.

She was the one to reach the surface first. She looked around, her eyes swiveling this way and that before her head was even out of the hole. And there - there was Rattlesnake Jake: coiled only a few meters away on a bed of straw. Luckily, he was facing away from the hole, so he would not see them unless he turned around. Slowly, carefully, she pulled herself out of the tunnel, wincing as she used her stomach muscles. He didn't stir. With a soundless _Shh_ to the boys below, she motioned them upward and made her way towards the great snake. Priscilla came next, followed by Dutch and the rest. The crept quietly, taking great care not to place their feet so as to make any noise. The desert mouse brought out the frying pan and hefted it in her tiny hands, and they inched closed to the rattlesnake.

"What... who— DONG!"

Priscilla, bless her soul - had hopped right up to the Grim Reaper and swung the frying pan with surprising force, cutting off his drowsy question. She looked behind her and blinked at the stricken faces of Marie and the boys. The pan reverberated for a few seconds then went silent. She lifted it again to strike—

"Hold it! You can make sure he's out another way. Just poke 'im with the handle." Marie spoke in hushed voice. The mouse did so, and the snakes head lolled to the side.

"Shoot. He be out cold." Cletus stared at Priscilla like he'd never seen her before. "Shoot." He repeated.

She shrugged, as if she'd preformed a simple parlor trick and not just knocked out Rattlesnake Jake with a frying pan. "Can I gut-shoot 'im if he wakes up?"

"What— no! We already let you knock 'im out. Wait, you've got a—? Oh, never mind! Just give 'im another whack if he starts to come round. " said Marie, a brow arched high.

"Can do." said the cactus mouse, and held the pan like a guard on duty. The mongoose saw the gaping mouths of the Joad brothers and had to chuckle and shake her head. No one had expected her to run up to the snake and cut him off mid-sentence. In fact, as soon as he'd spoken, she'd thought the jig was up. Leave it to the smallest in the group to do the biggest job.

"Well." Marie clapped her hands loudly. "There's a cart of wood outside, and Cletus's got the tools. Let's get to it!"

It took over three hours, plus a lunch break, the whole cart of wood, and another whack with a frying pan to repair and clean the abandoned bank. Cletus, being a raccoon, and Mordecai, being a squirrel, both had scaled the side of the building to board up the higher windows. With some hinges, Marie had managed to build some sort of doors for the front bottom windows so they could be opened and closed. The Joad brothers and Dutch had stuck to sweeping and fixing the lower parts of the walls, and Priscilla spent most of the time on guard duty, watching the rattlesnake and shifting the pan in her paws.

Once their work was done, they stepped outside to view the fruits of their labor. It looked the same, except for rectangular patches of tan showing here and there, the top windows with slightly crooked boards, and the bottom ones with two doors each on the inside. It could look nicer, but they had gotten the job done. She smiled with satisfaction at the youths of Mud. They were tired, like her, but they also looked like they felt accomplished enough.

"Good job, everyone. I couldn'ta done it without y'all." The boys looked up at her expectantly. "Now, before I hand ya your pay, remember: if anyone asks, you never got 'em from me, and you never helped me fer nothin'. Mum's the word."

"But we wants to tell everyone how's we gone in the devil's den." Jasper Joad kicked the dirt with his rabbit feet.

"I know, but it's part of the deal. Besides, once he wakes up..." Her eyebrows rose warningly. "He ain't gonna be happy somebody knocked 'im senseless. If you wanna claim ya took part in that..."

"A'ight a'ight. We won' tell nobody." They all nodded solemnly.

She smiled wistfully. "You can gloat all you want if Rattlesnake Jake leaves town. In the meantime, y'all got some sweets to collect." She held up the plastic bag of sugary gems, gleaming in the afternoon sun, and counted ten to each of them, including Priscilla. Their little paws could hardly hold so much candy, and they stuffed them into their pockets hastily.

"Who's up fer zombie tag in the cemetery, then?" Dutch grinned, and with a goodbye to Marie, the boys and Priscilla scampered excitedly away.


	15. Chapter 15: Can't Afford to Sleep

**Chapter Fifteen**

The mongoose stood just outside the bank doors a moment, watching the tails of the youths disappear behind the shops of the main road. Then she went back inside the bank and gazed at the sleeping snake. It was warmer inside, but only a little. She wanted to put a blanket over him but she knew that would be both unwelcome and useless. Snakes could not generate heat. Maybe she should bring in the coal heater, but then she would have to carry the thing in and out and worry about ventilation and... Maybe if she stayed for a while, the place might warm up. Marie laughed softly at the thought and flicked her tail. For the umpteenth time, she had to ask herself why she worried about him so.

She went back to her own house, scolding herself sternly. _You've repaid your debt, now stop fussing like a mother hen! That's enough getting into someone else's affairs. Aiya! Pay attention - if Croy Bolin were behind the front door, you'd be drugged and bagged already!_

She checked the Bowie knife at its hilt and walked into the kitchen for a drink. The first jug she found was empty. She uncorked the second jug. It was empty too. The mongoose flicked her tail in irritation. They might not be as strong as she liked, but they were something - and now she was out, with no money to buy some, too. Her foot tapped at the kitchen tiles as she thought. Her absent-minded gaze wandered out the kitchen window to rest on the bank outside, then quickly away. She made her way back to the living room, making a fire in the fireplace and heating the coals in the coal heater. She sat down in a comfy armchair and clutched the empty jug sorrowfully. It was only the afternoon, and there was nothing to do. Well, that wasn't entirely true - she could look for a job or pay a visit to Paula, but her body was glued to the armchair and the warmth both the heater and fire offered. Her eyes watched the flames rise and fall at random. Still holding the jug, the mongoose closed her eyes, and dozed off.

When she awoke, it was already dark. Marie rubbed her eyes and stretched— then immediately winced, clutching her side. The fire, or what was left of it, was a smoldering pile of embers and ash. She banked it and put more coals into the heater, stoking it drowsily. It occurred to her that she had slept without locking the door. She ought to have been mad at herself, but all she gave was a heavy sigh. For a few seconds she considered checking on Jake, now that it was cooler, though she knew it was unnecessary. She went anyway, taking an oil lantern and walking stiffly to the bank next door.

The doors creaked as she carefully pushed them open. Moonlight spilled onto the swept floor, casting an eerie mongoose-shaped shadow. The snake didn't move. She stepped inside and closed the doors, waiting to see if he might wake. After a full minute of standing and listening to nothing, she moved to light the lantern. She realized she still had the empty jug in her left hand and set it down quietly. Soft lantern light filled the large space of the old bank. Rattlesnake Jake was completely still in the far corner, his Gatling gun resting on the floor.

Mongoose Marie picked up the jug and moved closer to the great rattler, finally sitting next to him on the matted straw and placing the lantern beside her. Still he didn't move. She sighed. _Why are you here? _she wondered._ Are you just working out the rest of your life like the sheriff says? _His scales gleamed in the light of the lantern, his face hidden by his tilted black hat. What she would give for his high regard...

Her paws clenched into fists. She'd show him. She'd show him, that baron, the whole town - she was every bit as skilled and capable as she bragged herself to be when she'd settled down. Of course, knocking him out and fixing his home against his will was not usually what one did do earn another's high regard, but that was an exception; it had to be done. It was hypocritical of her to think so, she knew, especially after declining help and protection from Sheriff Rango, Beans, and Angelique. Also, there was Jake's pride: it was going to be mighty sore once he woke up, and she wouldn't blame him if he tried to get a good bite out of her. But in any case, she thought, it was already finished with. The consequences could be dealt with later.

The empty jug sat isolated at her feet. Her eyes glanced from it to the snake, and back again. ...Did she dare? Her thoughts were interrupted by a flash and a huge thunder clap, making her jump and look at the double doors. She looked at the snake in alarm, feeling for certain he had awoken and she was in some serious guacamole, but he slept on. Presently, there was the _plip, plop_ of rain, growing in number until she could hear a total downpour outside the bank. Her heart settled into its normal beat. So the storm had come, just like Wounded Bird promised.

Assured of the rattler's comatose state, she shifted closer to him. _I dare,_ she decided.

* * *

><p>When Rattlesnake Jake was hit squarely on the head with a frying pan, he had no idea it was the desert mouse Priscilla who'd done it, and done it again when he started to stir a little too much a few hours later. Upon the finished repairs of his home, the abandoned bank, sleep seemed to pull itself together at the absence of the freezing, buffeting winds, and wrapped itself snuggly around the pit viper.<p>

He dreamt of many things. He dreamt he saw his father, and yet he was his father, and they were quarreling heatedly in the desert. Their argument turned into a nasty fight, and suddenly drops of blood rain fell around them. Jake looked at the snake he was wrestling with, only to find he was a gnarled root of a tree nearby. Then, for some reason, he was warm, comfortably warm. His slit-pupiled eyes looked all around him. Now he was in a building where the windows were boarded and the pitter-patter of the rain could be heard outside. He lifted his head and tasted the air. A familiar scent came to him, but no, it couldn't be... He turned to his left and slithered back in surprise. Laying on the straw was Mongoose Marie. Her brownish fur seemed to have a reddish tinge in the glowing light of the lantern that sat next to her. He didn't see the jug hidden by her body.

What was she doing here? He stared at the sleeping figure for a while. Well, he wasn't one to deny a meal when it came so easily into his grasp. He rose and opened his mouth wide, ready to bite and swallow the poor mongoose whole, when he felt a curious thing. His mouth flexed again. ...his venom... He was dry. _I' am dreamin',_ he thought. _I must be. This woman might actually be my tail for all I know,_ he grumbled, and settled back into his coils. For his tail, she was quite warm, his sleepy mind registered. Jake's last thought was that he might not like Chinese food anyway, before he chuckled and closed his eyes.

He would not remember the dream when he awoke nearly four months later.


	16. Chapter 16: Red Leroy's Scar

**Chapter Sixteen**

Red Leroy, the desert kit fox, strode through the guard hall, making his way to the main building and his office. He was growing tired of the bobcat following him; he'd been badgering the boss of Fox House all day about the China girl.

"Sir, I tell you, it is the perfect time to retrieve her. 'alf the town of Mud will be asleep for the winter." Bolin said, struggling to keep up with the fox.

He stopped and turned abruptly. "Do you not listen, Croy? She will be expecting us. She is not so fool as to let 'er guard down."

"But she is wounded, I'm fairly sure—"

"Fairly sure?" Leroy snarled. " 'ave you forgotten ze men we 'ave already lost to 'er? Ze Jenkins? Par Joaquin? You yourself seem to 'ave nine lives, or you would not still be alive!"

The bobcat stayed submissive, bowing his head a little. "With, all due respect, sir, I wish you would 'ave more faith in me. I did not leave 'er unscathed, I tell you. At the very least, she cannot fight like she used to. What is more..." His cat eyes crinkled as he gave a toothy grin. "Rattlesnake Jake with be in 'ibernation."

The kit fox considered for a moment. "Even if she is in no condition to fight, ze same can be said of you, _mon ami_..."

"There are other retrievers you can send, sir. A 'ole team should do the job. Scar Sigurdsson and 'is people, I believe." He followed Leroy as they started to walk again.

"Yes... You know I only employ zose kinds of people, Croy." His cruel eyes gleamed and looked ahead of him. "But, I would be sorry to lose the Sigurdssons... All five of them." he said, a slight mocking in his voice.

"Forgive me, but you 'ave said yourself that we must use every resource to obtain 'er."

At that the fox laughed loudly. When he was finished, they had arrived at Red Leroy's office. "Zat I did, Croy. Very well. In zat case... Per'aps we can retrieve Mademoiselle Angelique as well?"

Bolin scratched his head. "I know not where she lives or works, sir. My assignment was to follow the China girl, so my seeing Angelique was just luck, if you understand..."

Leroy sighed and sat in his chair. "Lucky again, Angelique. Well, we can deal wiz ze vixen later. Maybe we will find some luck of our own."

* * *

><p>Scar Sigurdsson was a brutal hare who had roots from the far north. He was often taken for a jackrabbit, and to him it was a mortal insult, though no one knew why. Like all that Red Leroy employed, Sigurdsson and his four cousins were ruthless, sadistic, and enjoyed the entertainment given by female company. His left eye was irrevocably damaged by a more than feisty girl he had taken to liking in the past. As a result, he wore an eyepatch and was constantly turning his head like a bird to look this way and that.<p>

At the moment, Scar Sigurdsson was riding in a storm to Mud, his cousins on their roadrunners behind them. It was well past dark, and with the storm clouds, the moon offered little light to guide them. Heavy drops of rain pelted his hat and oiled slicker, trying to seep cold into his body. Every now and then lightning flashed, followed by a sound of thunder. It seem that Lady Luck was not on his side today. First he'd been called into the boss's office, and by the polite, sharp-toothed smile the fox gave, he knew he had been given the god forsaken task of retrieving the China girl. He'd never liked Red Leroy, but the pay had been good, the women better, and so he'd carried out his job as a retriever without too much complaint. Now, as his roadrunner thumped the ground tirelessly, he thought that maybe it would've been better to pretend he had liked the desert fox, however much he would've been a brown-noser. Anything but retrieving the mongoose. She had, after all, killed the Jenkins Brothers.

But, as much as he feared Mongoose Marie, and disliked Red Leroy, he was a man to see things through. Once he had been paid, it was his way to get the job done.

After a few hours of riding since they left Fox House, the Sigurdssons saw a lake before them, churning with the rain of the storm. They stopped, and Scar rode up to a sign. It was a new-looking, varnished sign, that said: "Welcome to Mud" in capital, official-like letters. He could barely make them out in the darkness, but it didn't matter. There were only so many towns in the middle of the desert that had such an abundance of water as a lake in front of them. He doubted this rain would be as valuable to this place as it were to other desert towns.

The band of hares rode in and dismounted outside the quiet, empty saloon. They tied their mounts to the post, and then headed towards the Reynolds' house. It was at the other end of the main road, next to the abandoned bank, they'd been told. Their boots squished in the muddy ground under the rain, their ears flicking off water if hats were not covering them. Finally Scar could see the old Bank of Dirt, boarded up and abandoned looking, and the tall house to its right. He stepped onto its porch and put a finger to his lips for the others to stay quiet. His paw moved towards the doorknob. Drops of water fell from his hat to the wood floor. The knob turned, and he swung the door open a crack. It was open. Perhaps the mongoose was not as cautious as Red Leroy had thought.

Gesturing to his cousins to follow, he opened the door further, and they all went inside. The door clicked behind them. In the living room they found the fire dead, but the coal heater still burning and giving off welcome warmth after the cold rain. Scar shook some of the water off him onto the living room carpet and turned to his cousins.

"Valdis, Dimitri, the kitchen there an' this room." He whispered in a gruff, accented voice. "Olaf vill stand guard vile Boris an' I search upstairs. Remember," he said as they drew their guns. "He vants her alife."

One stocky hare went directly through the open door to the kitchen, his pistol in hand. One proceeded to search the living room, while another wiry hare stayed at the entrance, and Scar went upstairs with a squat, burly hare.

At first, they were quiet as could be - stopping when there was a slight creak of the floor boards, opening every door with care and their pistols pointed forward in the dark spaces. When they could not find Marie in any of the rooms, they searched in the cupboards, closets, wardrobes - anything big enough to hold a mongoose. They became louder, their stomping feet echoing throughout the house. Scar Sigurdsson was growing madder with every empty space he found. Half an hour's worth of searching brought nothing. They could not find her anywhere, and yet there was a hot coal heater that must have been stoked no less than an hour ago, and there was an empty jug for spirits near the hearth. Angry desperation flooded Scar Sigurdsson as they came together in the living room, empty handed.

"Damn it!" He cursed. To come all this way for nothing; he did not ride for hours in the freezing rain, ready to face Mongoose Marie, for _this_. Many items in the living room fell victim to the hare's frustration as he hit everything in sight. The others stayed well back; they were used to this behavior. His left paw lashed out, but his bad eye did not see the pipe of the coal heater in the way, and they collided with a loud clang. He yelled in pain and gave a kick to the heater before starting to calm down. Dimitri, the stocky rabbit with his ears folded under his hat, sat his cousin down in an armchair.

"Vhat should be do, Scar?" he asked.

Scar took a few deep breaths and furrowed his brow in thought. "Vait. Ve shall vait. She must be out. In the mean time, double check the house, everywhere! I want to make sure she is not hiding under a bed ve haf searched already!"

They checked and double checked every inch of the house, not bothering to be quiet or careful at all anymore. Candles were lit for better sight, though not where they could be seen outside through the windows. Then, down the hall from the top of the stairs, Scar heard a very loud thump. Confused, excited, he half ran down the hall and looked at the front door.

"Olaf?" he whispered at the top of the staircase. His eyes squinted to see where Olaf was in the little light of the coal heater, still on. His cousins came up from behind; they heard the noise too. "All of you. Go check." he ordered snappishly. They obeyed, looking warily around the living room. "Vell?"

The stout hare named Boris had found Olaf right at the front door. He was sprawled on the floor, as if he'd just dropped dead. Scar saw his cousin check the hare's pulse and feel around his head.

"I think he asleep. He is breathing, but there is no injury to his head..." Boris said. There was another thump closer, and Valdis fell, about to clutch his own head. Dimitri started to cough and back away from the entrance. Boris stood uncertainly and wavered, then they both crumpled to the floor. Scar Sigurdsson raced down the stairs and shook Valdis, his nearest cousin.

"Vake up! _Vake up!_" he half yelled, half whispered, panting hard. "Vhat is the matter vith you all! You... you haf..." He took deep, gulping breaths. What was wrong with him? His eyes searched the room, flicking from door to chair to stool, and he saw the coal heater. In the dim light of the burning coals, he could just make out the pipe, bent awkwardly, and the softest hissing noise...

The hare instantly held his breath and ran towards the door. He must get out. He turned the doorknob and pulled, but there was something in the way. With a gasp he saw Olaf's body, coughing and choking in his unconscious state. He desperately pulled his dying cousin out of the way, feeling light headed. He reached for the door, and then—

Black nothingness surrounded him, dragging him into sleep - a sleep that Scar Sigurdsson would never wake up from.


	17. Chapter 17: What a Relief

**Chapter Seventeen**

Mongoose Marie woke up, and immediately she wondered where she was. Her head turned this way and that, taking in the light streaming through the boarded up windows, and she remembered. A small smile turned to a grin on her sleepy face. Her paws found the lantern and the heavy jug. With considerable effort, she pushed herself up and straightened her hat, then grabbed the objects. Coiled next to her was the sleeping Rattlesnake Jake, his closed eyes barely visible under his black hat. Her heart skipped a beat. Spending the night sleeping beside a rattler, no matter he was in hibernation... She hadn't _done_ any thing really, but oh, the gossip it'd stir between the servants back home.

Checking that no one was about outside, she slipped out the double doors of the bank. It was cold and windy, the ground quite muddy from last night's rain. Her mind reflected on her behavior the day before. She had been quite careless, from simple preoccupation to a blatant disregard to even lock the front door. Now she made doubly sure to be cautious, as if she could make up for last night's lack thereof. The lantern and jug in one paw, and the other on her Bowie knife, she approached her front door. With it unlocked, anyone could be in there, waiting. The curtains were drawn in the front window. Had she left it like that the night before? Slowly, she turned the doorknob.

Something large and heavy came at her from behind the door. She leapt back instantly, gritting her teeth at the pain it caused in her abdomen. The thing that had tumbled out the door fell onto the porch floor with a thump. It was a... Jackrabbit? Marie place the jug and the lantern at her feet. She nudged the body with her boot. It didn't move. Taking the knife out of her belt in her right hand, she check the man'a pulse with her left. He was as cold as the metal doorknob. She rolled him onto his back. The rabbit had a black eyepatch over his left eye and wore a dark brown hat with holes for his ears.

"What..." the mongoose muttered, frowning. She didn't recognize him. Looking inside, she saw for other bodies like him, all rabbits, all laying still. Questions formed in her mind like bubbles in a swamp. If the others in her house were dead like this one, what had killed them? She wasn't sure she should even be near the corpse, because there was no bullet wound, no cuts, no blood, and with more corpses inside... The first thing she thought of was poisoning of some sort.

Sure enough, her eyes spotted the coal heater next the fireplace: it's pipe was dented and bent.

_Carbon monoxide, _she thought. She'd heard of victims of carbon monoxide poisoning, a colorless, odorless gas that was made when things were burned. First, you passed out, and then later died of asphyxiation from the lack of oxygen.

There was no orange glow from the heater. It had to have burned out of coal hours ago. Still, the mongoose took a deep breath and jumped inside, opening all the windows. It was good that the day was windy, even if it did make her shiver. A quick check assured her that the rabbits were dead - all five of them.

Who were they? Grimacing with distaste, she rummaged thought the dead mens' jackets. There was money, many photos of pretty girls, guns, but she was interested in none of that. Upon reaching the rabbit outside, something caught her eye. It was a gold pocket watch, and etched on the back were two letters.

_FH_

If she had any doubts before of why they were here, they were gone now. She had no idea who exactly these five rabbits were, except that they had to be sent by Red Leroy of Fox House. Her stomach flipped to think what would have happened had they come when she was sleeping here.

"Poor fools," she said through gritted teeth. "I'd feed y'all to Jake if he weren't sleeping."

The mongoose shook her head. In any case, she would have to get help. She couldn't move the bodies by herself, and, she had some more questions for Angelique.

* * *

><p>The bodies of the dead rabbits were taken to the far edge of the cemetery for the carrion eaters and such like. No one would pay the undertaker, Mr. Black for their proper burial, so the carcasses were gladly taken by those who need the nourishment most.<p>

Wounded Bird brought other men to haul away the heater to Anvil the boar blacksmith for scraps, and families who had bought other heaters were warned to check that the air was being siphoned completely.

After the Reynolds' house was clear of both the corpses and their killer, the deputy, Marie, and Angelique sat down in the living room. The fox and bird sat in separate armchairs and the mongoose laid back against the couch with a low table in the middle of them.

"You need to be more careful, Miss Marie. Very lucky this time. Not so lucky next time."

Marie bit the inside of her cheek and crossed her legs. Had she been a teenager she might've rolled her eyes at the admonishment. "Yes, thank you, deputy. I am fully aware of the kind of people after me, and you are right."

"Wait," said Angelique. "Who told the deputy about your... Predicament?"

"I believe you'll find that a certain Priscilla is responsible."

"Ah." The fox curled her tail on her shoulder like a scarf. "She can be sneaky, that one. Marie, is there something you wanted to ask?"

"Yes," said the mongoose, and she sat up straighter. "First I'd like to ask, do you know who those dead men were?"

Angelique took out her cigarette holder but didn't light the cigarette at the end. "If memory serves me well, the one with the eyepatch is called Scar Sigurdsson. I do not know the others. They are all of Icelandic decent, I think." That earned a surprised look from both Wounded Bird and Marie.

"Is he special in some way? Well, I guess— I mean—" Marie struggled for words.

"You want to know what Red Leroy is thinking - sending a group of hares after you." It was a statement, not a question.

"In a way, yes. I also want any more information, anything you may have forgotten that you have on him and this 'client' that's paying them so well."

They were silent for a while. Angelique was thinking, and Wounded Bird was watching the exchange between the women with an tired, indifferent face. Finally the fox said, "I warned you Red Leroy would not stop until he 'ad you. The reward offered is great."

"Great enough to lose five men at once? Not to mention the great many other's I've dealt with."

"Evidently so."

Marie huffed out a breath. "Ok, ok. So when you heard the client speak at the gathering... What did he sound like? Was there anything you might've forgotten? Some small detail that might help pinpoint who the hell this man is?"

The fox thought for another moment. "I think I can say his voice was quite deep; he 'ad an accent, but so many in Fox House do - it is not uncommon."

"What kind of accent? How did he pronounce his words?" The mongoose was at the edge of the sofa, peering into Angelique's face and glancing at Wounded Bird every now and then.

"I'm sorry. I can't exactly remember... It was years ago."

Another bout of silence filled the air, though this time of disappointment. Marie looked down at her boots.

"There is one man I know who is rich enough to pay that kind of money and not bat an eyelid. It would make sense... I don't know why I couldn't see it before..." She closed her eyes and ran her paws through her hair. "But I can't be sure... And I have no idea _why_..."

Wounded Bird spoke. "Priscilla told me you decline protection. I will arrange for your house to be watched—"

"No!" Marie's head snapped up, her eyes like saucers. "I mean, please, don't. This wasn't a lapse of caution - I mean, there wasn't any reason to lock the house while I was out, and I was plenty careful coming back in. I'll put a double bolt on the door, okay?" She gulped, knowing she was being a perfect hypocrite by having helped Jake when he refused her help.

"What I don't understand," said Angelique. "Is where you were all last night, and why you did not return until morning."

It was like her mind had suddenly turned to egg scramble. She felt herself start to fluster. Reasons bounced around in her skull, one among them: the truth. The mongoose grabbed desperately at the first excuse while keeping her expression blank.

"I was at the cantina." It came out like a rush. Then she found a fact - the perfect support for her lie. "That's why I brought back..." she went outside and retrieved the jug. "...this. I must have slept the night there. You can ask Paula, the barmaid." she bluffed confidently, wishing she could send a telepathic message to the raccoon to vouch for her.

But it was unnecessary. The secretary and the deputy accepted her reason without question, and presently they got up to leave. It was well past midday now, and she held the door open to the bright outside for them. They said their goodbyes, and she closed the front door behind them. With a sigh of relief, the mongoose wondered what else the winter had in store for her.


	18. Chapter 18: With Spring Comes New Things

**Chapter Eighteen**

The raccoon looked at the mongoose, incredulous. The mongoose looked back, threatening to burst into laughter.

"Qué? You..." Paula started to smile uncertainly at Marie's amusement. "Das funny, mija. I thought you said you knocked Rattlesnake Jake out."

She coughed to hide a chuckle. "Well, technically, it wasn't me..." She took one look at the barmaid's face and started to crack up again.

"Marie, that's not funny! Ay buey, do you know what this means? Dios mío, he's gonna kill you!"

The mongoose rolled her eyes. Not that she had a death wish, but she did not believe for a second that the snake would, or _could_ kill her. At least, not when she was healed up.

"Calm down, Paula." said Marie reassuringly. "As long as he sleeps through the winter, and he will, all snakes do, I'll be whole again, and he won't lay a single scale on me."

"Mija..." The raccoon's eyes were sorrowful. "I know you's skilled and all, but come on... Dis is Rattlesnake Jake. You'll be torn to pieces or shot full 'a holes before you know he's even awake."

"Aiya... Not you, too. You don't think I'm another blithering, bragging phony, do you?" Her voice was disappointed and accusatory.

Paula frowned. "Who give you dat idea, huh?"

"I've been told that the town had come to thinkin' all my talk when I came in is just that: talk. I don't blame 'em, seein' as Rango once did the same thing..."

"No." The coon scoffed. "It's not de same, mija. And not nearly as bad."

"Oh? I wouldn't know."

"No." she repeated. "Rango was our hero. When the snake came, he show us he ain't nothin' but a fake and a coward. No one can say to you, mija. So you get whooped once in a while, it's a tough life out here; you know dat."

Marie sighed, stirring the hair around her face. "Yeap, don't we all. Thank God for drink to soften the edges a bit."

At that the barmaid turned away from her and began to work with something Marie couldn't see. When she turned back around, she placed a small glass of purple-brown liquid on the counter.

"Scotch and plum brandy, with cognac." she said, reading the mongoose's _what-the-hell-is-this_ face. "My cantina is going out of business. I thought since you don get drunk easy, you 'cn help me try some drinks I made..."

Marie narrowed her eyes at the glass and arched her eyebrows. "Kinda sorta like a guinea pig...?" she asked.

"No guinea pig. Taste tester."

"Well..." she said, still eyeing the glass warily. "You know I can't pay you for the drinks, Paula. I'm practically broke, you know."

The coon waved off her words. "Don' need any money. You's helpin' me. Now go on, try it."

The mongoose sighed in defeat and picked up the glass, swishing the purple-brown liquid for a second. Then she tilted her head back and drank the whole in two gulps. Immediately she started to cough.

"Kh... Wh-what did you say that was?" she sputtered.

"Scotch and plum brandy with some cognac... It's dat bad...?"

Marie looked ruefully at the barmaid. "It's disgusting."

Paula took a deep breath and looked behind her at the shelves of bottles and jugs of alcohol. Finally, she leaned against the counter and placed her head in arms.

"I'll have to think of somethin' else... If only I could get a singer - some music in the place... Business was good back when I had Dora 'ere." she sighed.

"It'll pick up in the spring, I'm sure. Hey - Lotsa folk'll be movin' into those new houses bein' built." said Marie, trying to lift the raccoon's mood.

"Oh, sure. Once everyone hears you been eaten by da Grim Reaper, lotsa people gon' come." she replayed dryly.

The mongoose made a little "hmph" sound to emphasize just what she thought about that.

"Well, in the winter, there's only so much you can do. In the end, you can only wait for spring to come along."

* * *

><p>Over the winter Marie went to visit Paula many times, sometimes to taste a new concoction of the raccoon's, sometimes to simply to talk. She also kept up with her art, though she only had graphite and charcoal to work with. Sometimes she managed to play cards with some of the regular saloon denizens. They didn't seem to grudge her <em>as<em> much as Baron Von Hoosenschitzel did, though it was hard to get them to speak more than a word directly to her.

No more lackeys were sent to retrieve her that winter. Priscilla and the other boys of Mud played and talked to her, and seemed to grow a respect for the mongoose that most else didn't share. They were shrewd at some times and yet slow at others, and they always managed to get Mongoose Marie in a good mood. Christmas came, and, having little money, she simply made a few very nice sketches for the kids and Paula, all of whom appreciated greatly.

No one wanted to _buy_ any artwork, however, which was something of a disappointment for her. Marie tried to find work with the blacksmith, Anvil, the cobbler, the construction site, even, but everywhere she tried, they did not seem to have any work for her. She felt small twinge of worry, but if it came to it, she could try and hunt in the desert.

She was most impatient for her bandages to come off. Everyday held an anticipation of Red Leroy's men, and she was rapidly tiring of the cautious behavior she had to maintain. She could not even exercise properly without risking reopening the gashes from her side to her abdomen. Years of training were becoming rusty with everyday she spent hampered by her injury. The mongoose could only salve her wounds dutifully and practice with her Bowie knife, drilling different cuts and twisting slices using just her arms. With any luck, she could be ready for even an apocalypse, if she healed by spring.

But throughout that winter, there was only so much she could do. In the end, she could only wait for spring to come along.

* * *

><p>Twelve ringing tolls of the clock tower sounded throughout the main street. Mongoose Marie frowned and looked up from her seat outside the Gas Can Saloon. The winter sun shone on the clock face, showing that it was indeed twelve o'clock. Her frown deepened. It was the beginning of April, and more than a week had passed since the stitches in her side had been removed. Doc had said he'd see today if she had healed up. With strict instructions not to move around too much, she was as impatient as ever to get the ok from the one-eared rabbit.<p>

Marie knew better than to disobey a doctor's orders, even if he was only sober half the time he was awake. She was moving about just fine now, but it what a fine thing it would be to start training, only to reopen her wound and spend many more months in recuperation, all because she'd failed to obey a doctor's instructions. And so she sat on a creaking chair outside the saloon, hands shoved into the pockets of her blue silk shirt.

At last Doc hobbled up the porch to enter the saloon, an empty flash in his right paw. He blinked at the sight of the mongoose. "What're ye doin' here?" he said in a slurred voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "Wanted to ask if I'm fit for exercisin'."

"Exercisin'?"

"Jumpin', runnin', tumblin'... fightin'." she lifted her shirt just over the wounds, and he peered at the faded gashes from her side to her stomach. The fur had not grown back over them, revealing three, tender-looking scars. Four months of care had reduced the deep cuts to pinkish, thin lines. A few gentle pokes tested the resilience of the skin, and the mongoose didn't so much as wince. The doctor sniffed and withdrew. She settled her clothes.

"Seems to me…" he said, and seemed to forget what he was about to say. "Seems to me, you've done a fine job o' takin' care o' those wounds." He smiled kindly. "Nasty things when ye first got 'em. Lost a lotta blood, too."

"And now?" she pressed.

He lifted his flask to his lips, only to realize it was empty. "Well," he said, looking at the flask. "You seem fine enough to do anythin' ya wish, really. I would recommend ye hold off any rigorous activities, _but_ it's your—"

Marie let out a yell of delight and hugged the doctor around the middle. She jumped off the saloon porch and looked back at his bemused face. "Thanks!" she shouted, and started to run.

It was official. She could run and leap and roll wherever she wanted to without hindrance. Granted, she was similarly relieved when she had the stitches removed, but now, the undeniable truth that she was healed overwhelmed her. She could go hunting. She could train properly. She could pick a fight with Bad Bill - with anyone!

Her feet took her around the whole town, lightly touching the ground and pushing her forward incessantly. Her lungs breathed the cold air blowing and billowing around her. She whooped and cheered as she ran, not noticing the looks people gave her as she rushed by. It was a long time before she felt tired enough to stop, though when she did, her legs seized up. God, when was the last time she'd done a good run? Sitting in the dirt and massaging her legs, she saw that they'd brought her to the construction site. Except... It wasn't really a construction site anymore.

Of the original plans old Tortoise John had for this valley, the builders had only carried through with a few shops and a small collection of very nice houses. She could tell the architects must have had fun designing them. There were some large Victorian looking houses, Tudor houses; most houses looked quite bizarre to her — they must have been specially built for certain kinds of animals. In contrast to other buildings in the desert, they seemed out of place. The mongoose marveled at the sight. With a jolt, she remembered Paula. All sorts of people would be moving into Mud, it being a kind of oasis in the desert and with this new residential area, there was no doubt about it. And... Yes. In the distance, she could see a group of owls being shown the various houses by what looked like a real estate agent. Another family of foxes seemed to be actually moving in with large trunks and boxes. She looked on graciously, wishing for good business for the raccoon.

Thinking about the owner of the cantina prompted the mongoose to get up, stretch, and turn back towards the main road. Surely there was cause for a drink - even if it was some experimental concoction.

* * *

><p>It seemed that this day was full of pleasant surprises. Well, not exactly surprises, as they were expected in one way or another, but this glass of apple cider-mead sitting in front of Mongoose Marie was most certainly the best thing she had ever tasted, besides silkworms, and she told Paula the barmaid so.<p>

"Silkworms?" the coon laughed. "I don't know whether to be pleased or insulted."

"Sorry, old girl." Marie clicked her tongue. "This drink is _great_, no doubt about it, but can't nothin' beat the taste o' _silkworms_. You steam 'em in their cocoons, then wrap 'em in strings of maltose — stuff like a... Honey taffy — dust it with rice powder, and it is just _fantastic_..."

Paula's eyes sparkled with amusement. "It that why you come here, huh, mija?" she chortled. "To compare my drink with your Chinese delicacies?"

Marie rolled her eyes, then rose her brows. She had completely forgotten to tell Paula her own good news. "_Ahhh..._" She sighed, as if to let out the breath she'd held while drinking. Then she swung herself off the high stool, onto the floor. "Take a look at this."

And she lifted her shirt just up to her ribs, twisting slightly to show off the scars down her side.

"Ay, chica!" The barmaid exclaimed, turning her head abruptly and raising her hands to the side of her face.

Marie let out a scoff of disbelief. "Oh, get ahold of yourself. It's only my stomach, and it's not like you haven't seen a female body before."

The coon, somewhat embarrassed by her own prudish behavior, turned to examine the bare scars on the mongoose. Her expression changed to an impressed one, with a slowly growing smile. Marie guessed what she would say next, that she should take the chance now and leave town seeing as she was fit; she'd been saying so all winter. They both opened their mouths to speak, and then a loud bang filled the room.

It was the door, which had slammed open at the entrance to reveal Priscilla. The women stared at the girl. The girl stared at women. Abruptly Paula's hand darted out and jerked down Marie's shirt.

The mouse blinked incomprehensibly.

"Were you… looking' fer me, girlie?" Marie asked, like nothing had happened.

Priscilla blinked once more and took a deep breath. "There's a rattler on rampage."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**So! Now Marie's all better, Jake's up, perfect timing, I know. ^^; Hopefully he won't skin her alive... with tweezers.**

**Anyways, I have a feeling these last few chapters sorta came out of no where and jumped around the place. I could be wrong, but I'll try and make better transitions. I'm also going to write future chapters a bit longer. Thanks to all for your wonderful reviews. :)**


	19. Chapter 19: Mongoose for Lunch

**Chapter Nineteen**

Even from the cantina, Mongoose Marie could hear the enraged shouts coming from the other end of the main road. She didn't know whether to feel scared out of her wits like Paula, or eager and expectant like Priscilla. Obviously, the barmaid felt that the mongoose should be running all the way back to China if she wanted to live, and the desert mouse thought it was going to be an interesting sort of exhibition with no chance of the great Mongoose Marie coming to harm. Her face blank, the mongoose took a deep breath, walked to the door, and poked her head out onto the street. Other people were also looking curiously in the direction of the old bank, where the shouts were coming from.

"Where is she! _She's_ the one who did this— I warned her— When I get that flea-bitten China girl, she'll be sorry she ever saw the likes of me!"

She heard a crash: the large rattlesnake had burst through the doors of the building, causing a the people on the street to scatter. Marie looked back at the mouse and the raccoon, and felt oddly... eager?

"_Showtime_," she said with a very crooked smile, and swept out the door.

"Rattlesnake Jake!" She yelled at the top of her voice. The snake at the other end of the road whipped around, hissing furiously. Her heart was beating hard, though out of fear or excitement she could hardly tell.

And then he was streaking towards her, slithering back and both rapidly so that he approached the mongoose within seconds. She waited for him, glancing at the Bowie knife at her hip and standing until he was just feet away. He didn't hesitate. His head reared and snapped down at her. She ducked and jumped around him. He lunged again, and she leapt over his tail to run away in the opposite direction.

"Jake, you ain' nothin' but a hound dog!" she yelled, turning mid-run to grin at him. Yes, this was thrilling. Jake growled and rattled his tail angrily, but he had to spin and twist himself to come after her again.

Down an alley she went, ducking under a clothes line, jumping over crates and barrels, and all the time the snake crashed through everything behind her. The townspeople watched the whooping mongoose from behind closed shutters, thinking the poor girl must've gone mad with fear.

On the contrary, she thought it was exhilarating. It was like a game. No, that wasn't right. She knew she had hurt the snake's pride badly by helping him, but she hoped this was his chance to regain some, or at least feel better about it, anyways. At the same time, she could prove that she was capable of keeping herself alive in the face of a rattler's rampant.

Over a wheelbarrow, skidding and hitting the ground with her paws to make a hairpin turn, and she was out on an open street again. Marie glanced behind her, saw the advancing serpent, and tumbled out of the way just in time as he stormed onto the street. Quickly she got to her feet to see him raise his tail gun and direct it towards her face.

"Thought you could knock Rattlesnake Jake insensible and live to tell the tale, _prairie dog_? Ye should've kept yet nose outta my business. Then, maybe—"

The mongoose took her chance to dart away, putting valuable distance between her and the Gatling gun before the snake started shooting. And he did. Slightly delayed by his speech, Jake then fired ceaselessly at her, the bullets catching up to the retreating creature.

It was then that she bit her lip and furrowed her brow. A new burst of adrenaline pulsed through her veins as the stream of bullets reached her. She moved very fast, her teeth drawing blood on her lip in the effort to nimbly twist, duck, roll, leap, and somersault her way ahead of the rapid fire of the Gatling gun. This was not like when she fought her brothers - all they had were simple six-shots.

"God-damn-your-blas-ted-gun-are-you-real-ly-trying-to-kill-me?... Gah!"

She spoke in a chopped fashion, though not from dodging each individual bullet - that was fair madness. Her best bet was to treat the stream of fire like a laser beam and move faster than the snake could point his tail gun her way. She did this, but it was hard, moving around over all sorts of obstacles and keeping her eyes on the direction of Jake's tail. Then she yelped as she misplaced a foot and fell right on her rump in the dirt. Though to her _tremendous_ relief, it seemed that Jake had either run out of ammunition, or his gun had jammed.

That hardly made him any less dangerous, however, and she scrambled to get on her feet to get away from those sharp, curved fangs. This was becoming much too dangerous for her liking - until now, it hadn't really gotten through her thick head that Rattlesnake Jake _would_ actually _kill_ her. Her breath coming harder than ever after dodging the bullets of the Gatling gun, she ran for all her worth, making turns at every corner and trying to shake the serpent off. She could hear the crashes and clatters of the rattler not too far behind her, but she didn't dare take the time to look back.

Past a shabby old house she raced, onto yet another empty road, and it seemed she was at the edge of the town now. She could tell because there was that boulder where she had sat and met Rattlesnake Jake so long ago. Sprinting towards it without a second thought, she scurried around the boulder and collapsed against the mud yellow rock, facing the open desert. Hurriedly she tried to get her breath under control a her panting was too loud - maybe, if she could get very quiet...

There was a soft, metallic rattling somewhere in the street behind her, and a slight rustling-crunch signifying the movements of scales on the rocky earth. Marie inhaled as silently and deeply as she could, praying the Grim Reaper would not smell her. She heard a light hiss. Was he getting closer? Her hands were tightly balled into fists. If it came to it, she would have to fight back...

A shadow fell on the ground around her, and she knew that any plans of staying hidden had been effectively obliterated. Her head turned up, unable to express her dismay as any noise in the face of Rattlesnake Jake, his eyes positively murderous as he looked down upon her. Her stomach was sinking deep into the ground. She stated into his slit-pupiled eyes with her-pupiled ones.

Mongoose Marie's last thought was an inward "_Aiya..._", and then an ear-piercing scream split the air.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Another cliff hanger! Sorry for the short chapter. The next one will be just as action-packed as this one, and hopefully Marie won't seem too Mary Sue-ish. :[ Happy Thursday!**


	20. Chapter 20: The Snake's Small Entry

**Chapter Twenty**

Marie only managed to look away from Jake's piercing eyes when he broke the contact himself. They both turned their faces to the open desert where the loud scream had come from, searching for what had made it. It sounded like... But no, the sound had lasted two or three seconds, and in any case, there weren't any of _those_ in the Mojave desert. Then she saw it: a large bird in the sky. It screamed again, a harsh, ear-splitting cry that set her already jumping heart to beat even faster. She quickly turned back to Rattlesnake Jake, wanting to ask him something, but was shocked to see the fear on his face. A moment later he was slithering out of sight behind the rock.

"What... What's a _falcon_ doing here?" she shouted to no one, unable to keep a slight quiver out of her voice. Again the bird let loose a scream, and her eyes flew back to watch the oncoming predator.

"No... it _can't_ be a fal—"

"HAWK!" someone shrieked in the street. People had come out to see what was going on, but as soon they saw the flying figure in the distance, they scattered. They were yelling and slamming doors; the fear in the air was twice as alarming as when Jake had been rampaging through town.

But where was he? Marie peeked around the boulder at her back and saw he too was streaking for shelter. _The hawk is his death_, she thought with a bout of dread. And then, suddenly, she felt something switch inside her, like a knob that spun 'round and clicked into place. What was she talking about? _He_ was Death. _He_ was the Grim Reaper. It angered her. The town's and Rattlesnake Jake's lack of grit angered her. Never mind her own fear; she wanted to act. The food chain meant less than nothing.

"Stop _quailing_, you cowards!" she yelled, coming around the boulder to shout. "Jake!" She realized he was only a few feet away, backed under a cover porch like he was trying to melt into the wall. "You want to redeem your damned pride?" Her voice was a low snarl. "_Buck the hell up._"

They heard another cry then, and the rattler stiffened. But it wasn't the harsh scream of the hawk, it was a cry for help. Marie could see a black snake winding desperately towards the town. So that was the reason for the hawk's sudden appearance. If no one helped the snake soon... The mongoose watched the gliding hawk, trying to figure out its path. It seemed very preoccupied with its prey. If only she could some how get on top of the hawk, away from that beak. Real fear was again streaming into her veins along with the course of anger. Suddenly she moved, running to the cobbler's shop, which was closest to the desert. She took one glance at the building with its gigantic boot, and started to climb. The roof was conveniently flat with a solid railing to peek behind from. Hefting herself over the top, she knelt, waiting. And, to her relief, the hawk kept to its course and neared the building she was on.

Five yards away - who was she kidding, acting the hero? She was going to die because of all this grandiose bravado. Four yards away - she stood up. But what could she do? It would be certain humiliation to simply let the hawk fly past after doing this much. Three yards - she braced her foot against the railing. She had to do it, then. had to commit. Two yards - she started to hoist herself up.

One.

Marie launched herself off the building, pushing off hard with her legs and reaching out for the hawk's back, it's wings, it's feathers - anything she could catch hold of.

She managed to grab a handful of wing feathers, though some came loose as her weight jerked the whole thing downwards. The hawk gave a long screech, making her ears ring. It flapped its wings, shaking the mongoose, and she caught a glimpse of one red, beady eye. Fighting to hold on, she used the momentum of the wing's upward motion and swung above the hawk, then landed heavily on its back. It swerved and fell several feet.

"Falc— Hawk!" she addressed it over the wind, sounding much fiercer than she felt. She crouched on its back so her head was near its own. "I'm gonna give you one chance - _one chance_ - to high tail yourself outta here! And 'less you want yer dead carcass roasted into barbecue, I suggest you do it! Now!"

The bird screamed in response, rolled, and shook, trying to dislodge the mongoose. She held tight onto its feathers, even when she was turned upside down. _I'll take that as a no_, she thought grimly. Marie took her out her Bowie knife - a big, curved blade as long as her forearm. Deftly she slashed deep into bird's exposed neck. Bits of feathers and blood droplets flew into the wind, and she cut again - left, right, curve, stab, and withdraw. The bird tossed and spun again in the air, shrieking its pain, and then both hawk and mongoose were falling.

It slammed into the ground in the middle of the street, and Marie, holding onto it, fell much more lightly onto its feathered body. The hawk, dazed and bleeding through its feathers at the back of its neck, stumbled to its feet and saw the mongoose. She heard it scream yet again - she really was getting tired of it - and rolled over in the dirt to avoid its sharp talons. Its head was hanging low, and it never attempted to come at her with its curved beak.

She rolled again, coughing the dust out of her lungs, and quickly got to her feet, only to leap out of the way of another huge claw. The hawk's eyes were glowing red with a malevolent anger, and she was struck by an idea. The Bowie knife still in her hand, she dodged to the side and lunged forward.

It was about as smart as jumping into a pit of snakes, but it was that which seemed to confuse the hawk enough so that it did not immediately bite Marie's head off

Her arm darted forward and back, into its right eye, and before it could do anything, into its left.

Another scream from the hawk tore at her ears, louder and more anguished than any it had voiced before. It stumbled and threw its head back, which only seemed to make it worse. The mongoose realized too late she hadn't withdrawn her knife, and as the bird stamped and screeched in agony, the knife came away from her grasp, still embedded in its eye.

The hawk's foot came crashing down, talons outstretched, and of all the times her quick reactions could fail her, though her eyes were still fixed on the Bowie knife, the great talons were on the mongoose in a second, pinning her down and digging into her shoulder. She had no knife. The breath was being crushed out of her by the blinded hawk. Drops of red blood were being flicked everywhere at its violent movements.

This what became of stupid heroics. Marie snarled and spat, trying to find some weakness in the clawed cage. It was she who needed help now, most preferably before she was killed. Her teeth clamped tight as she struggled to suppress panic welling up inside her. Suddenly, she caught sight of Rattlesnake Jake. If she tilted her head back she could see him, facing her and the hawk, but not moving a muscle. She couldn't see his eyes in the glare of the sun.

"Shoot the damn bird, Snake!" She tried to yell at the top of her lungs, and at the same time keep the air flowing into them.

A flash of movement caught her eye - the blinded hawk was flapping its wings clumsily. She could feel the wind beating over her. What was it doing? Its weight shifted and greatened on the foot holding the mongoose down, and a gasp of pain escaped her.

A series of shots - a succession of bullets, all hitting their target above. Immediate relief flooded her ribs and lungs as the immense weight of the hawk disappeared. Slightly dizzy, she looked and watched the blind bird of prey stumble. Its beak opened to scream; she covered her ears, but no sound came out, except a croaked, strangled cry. Then it fell backwards, it's wings making no move to break the impact - dead, before it hit the ground.

Not a sound could be heard, save for the soft clinking of glass bottles in the wind. There was a tense, shocked silence from those who watched the scene of the snake, the mongoose, and the dead hawk. Someone finally opened a door. Another person stepped out of a barrel. People started to spill into the street.

"Is it... Is it dead?" someone whispered.

Marie walked over to the head of the fallen bird, gently rubbing her shoulder, and pulled out her bloody knife. Red dots and splatters were all over the ground and on her clothes. If the hawk wasn't dead, she was a frog.

"It's dead. Dead as a doornail." she voiced, just loud enough for those around her to hear.

More silence, and then, Priscilla pushed her way through the crowd. "Some bully shot!" she exclaimed, "Reckon that's the second dead hawk we seen in eight months."

And, just like that, the circle of people erupted into a babble of cheers and excited talk.

"Didja see that? Jumped right onto its back side."

"Took out its eyes 'fore it could blink."

"Didn't even have a gun!"

And... "Oh, thank you! I was trying to get away... I thought I was going to die!"

That was the snake - the one who had been desperately fleeing towards the town with the hawk in persuit. Marie saw it was a female, pure black with a jewel shaped head and blue-grey eyes. And when she spoke... The inside of the snake's mouth was a milky white. She was a cottonmouth, and a very beautiful one at that. Her black scales were smooth and sleek over her lean body, which was granted a shine in the bright sunlight. The mongoose couldn't help but stare.

"Oh..." she said slowly, her face hot from the praise of the townsfolk. She could hardly believe just seconds she'd done everything they were talking about. The crowd slowed their conversations amongst themselves to look at the newcomer. She seemed to captivate them just as she did Marie, and the snake looked down as if to blush.

"Ahah, well..." The mongoose cleared her throat. "It was Jake, really, that done it. That'd be him right over..." Her head turned to where he'd been. He wasn't there. She frowned, looking around, but the rattler was no where in sight.

There was someone else approaching, though, and Marie saw it was the sheriff and Beans, looking quite disheveled. Their eyes widened in a sleepy sort of alarm at the sight of the cottonmouth.

"And who might you be?" asked Beans, getting to the point a little sharper than necessary. "A friend of Rattlesnake Jake's?"

The black snake half-smiled. "I ain't been here ten minutes and already two people've mentioned 'im. I ain't ever heard of Rattlesnake Jake, but he seems to be... quite the hero."

This caused a series of loud guffaws and raised brows from the crowd, at which she looked down again sheepishly.

Rango straightened up and asked, "What's your name, miss?"

"Deliah." she replied mildly. "I've been looking for the town of Mud for some time - heard there was new establishments bein' finished in the spring."

She went on, but Marie wasn't paying attention. All she heard was the cottonmouth give her name, and then she had lost interest of everything else. Her feet stepped wanderingly to and fro in search of the disappeared rattler. Rango was saying something that made everyone laugh, except for Beans.

While their attention was fixed on the newcomer Deliah, Marie decided to go home. Being chased by the Grim Reaper, meeting a hawk, and nearly being crushed by its talons was, in her opinion, quite enough for a day.

And, much to her pleasant surprise, Jake seemed to have thought the same thing.

* * *

><p>The diamond-patterned snake glared determinedly ahead as the <em>damn<em> _prairie dog_ fell in subtly beside him. He was going home to his secluded bank, away from all this — this _drama_. It wasn't enough that she'd run circles around him, mocking him, but she had to play the hero and bring him into dealing with a _hawk, _too. Now she was walking quickly to keep up with him, too close for her own good.

Never had he expected the mongoose to behave as she did. If she'd had any sense, she would've put as much distance between them as possible before he woke up. But she hadn't, and what's more, he knew why. Smug, cocky, self-righteousness. He glanced at her. A wide, closed-lipped smile was plastered onto her face.

He ought to _murder_ her, the little chit! She seemed to notice the glare of the snake, because her smile faltered as she caught his eye. She didn't know who she was dealing with. It was her own folly she didn't think of what she'd gotten herself into. In a blur, he circled the mongoose and gripped her in iron-tight coils. She gasped but didn't struggle. Even now, she was behaving like she had nothing to fear. Anger blazed in his eyes, and he looked at her full in the face.

"I don't know what yer game is..." he growled, his voice deep and menacing. "But ye've gone too far this time. Ye've put a knot in my head, and run me a wild goose chase around town to boot. I hope yer happy with yer final hoorah, 'cause ye ain't gonna live much longer to enjoy it. I've had enough of you, Mongoose Marie." He coiled tighter around her.

Her brows lowered and came together. "Now, why would you want to _kill_ me?" asked Marie very slowly and carefully. "I would've thought we had a good run, us both showin' what we're made of, and, _you_ killed a _hawk_."

He didn't answer. Was she implying that it was all part of some plan of hers? If so, he liked it even less. When he still didn't speak, she sighed and said,

"A 'course, I had no idea a hawk would show up. It was a good thing though, wasn't it. You're a snake, and you killed a hawk." she repeated. "If you were worried about your image, I don't know why you'd still be now." Her face twitched like she wanted to add a little _Tch_, but she managed to suppress it.

Still he remained silent, but his furious stare was fading into irritated disconcertion. "And why the devil do ye think that helps you any?" he growled.

"Isn't that what you want? To maintain your reputation?" She gazed unblinkingly up at him. "I know you don't enjoy help when you don't want it. No one does. _But,_ I don't - and I _didn't_ - care if you wanted it or not, when I fixed your house; I thought that much was obvious. It was not my intention to shame you, and I gave you your rampant to air it out. I would think that on top of that, facing a hawk should convince everyone you still don't take codswallop from nobody."

Jake began to see it, although it made him no less irate. He relaxed so she could free herself from his coils. When she did, he flicked his tail to cuff her on the head, hard. She bowled over, her hat flying off into the dirt.

The mongoose immediately got to her feet and assumed a sort of ready stance, not angry, he saw, but ready. He snorted.

"That's so ye don't get complacent, prairie dog. Just because ye can't be killed easily, it don't mean I won't work to make it happen." he said. She nodded solemnly, showing the proper amount of humility. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Now _what_..." he said, "possessed ye to help Rattlesnake Jake enough ye might've died tryin'?" He saw her stiffen slightly, though her facial expression didn't change.

"I thought you knew that already. Didn't you save me before? Now, we're even." She blinked.

"_Don't_," he hissed, his eyes narrowing, "_lie to me. _Ye told me yerself it wadn't about no renumeration."

A frown crossed her mongoose face. He guessed she was deciding whether to speak or not. Finally she crossed her arms and leaned back on her heels.

"You know what a conscience is, don't you? _How_ could I stay home and drink tea or something, knowing that right next door, someone was slowly freezing to death? To tell the truth, it never occurred to me I could be killed because of it."

He stayed still and silent for a moment while she continued to stare at him. "Ye know, There are folks who'd expect ye to be dead and shot to pieces by now." he said.

"Is that still your intention?"

Jake raised his head and looked down at her. What strange eyes she had - long, horizontal pupils. Her mouth was set like a half-purse, half-pout. This woman really knew practically nothing about him, he decided. Though she might've seemed genuinely scared when he'd caught her at the boulder, all through their chase she hadn't shown any true terror. However, the mongoose's ignorance about him didn't mean she lacked courage. She'd shown that with the hawk. He gave a small huff. It was less fun being the Grim Reaper when you couldn't terrorize and send a girl screaming with a glare and a menacing rattle.

"No, I don't think I will kill you." He lowered his head and eyed her with a smoldering glare. "But ye'd best not be makin' a habit outta this, woman."

"I won't, don't worry." She nodded again seriously, like good girl doing what she was told.

He scoffed and flipped her hat up off the ground to her, and she caught it with both hands. Then the snake turned his back on the mongoose and slithered away from her, heading home.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Well! I am quite pissed off at Apple's iCloud for losing the next two chapters I had written ahead, and now have to rewrite. For some reason they are stuck forever "Updating" and I can't do so much as rearrange them, let alone download them. From now on I'm going to keep backup-backup copies of my files.**

**Anyway. I was rather pleased with this chapter, after editing out a bunch of flashy sentences, and completely changing the ending twice. Hope everyone liked it as well.**


	21. Chapter 21: Shrewd, but not a Shrew

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Priscilla sat outside the saloon with her usual ruffian friends, just listening to the piano inside. It was a nice day, which was saying something in the Mojave Desert. She tapped a stick in time to the clanky tune, staring into the distance. The other boys lay and sat on the porch looking bored, and preoccupied themselves by picking at strands in their clothes and observing the texture of the wood.

Then, a new sound seeped into the air, coming from a distance and moving closer. Dutch looked up and caught Priscilla's large, yellow eyes.

"Them Mariachi Owls?." he saidasked. She nodded.

But she'd never heard this song before, and there was someone other than the owls who was singing along. She focused on the new sounds, the instruments playing a far livelier tune than the piano in the saloon behind her, and the strong voice singing in… Spanish. It was a woman's, and as Priscilla saw the outline of four little owls appearing down the street, she also saw the black shape of a snake: Deliah, the newcomer. Intrigued, the cactus mouse sat up. She could just make out the lyrics, but didn't entirely know what they meant.

_Toro, toro, to-u-ro~_

_Entra de largo_

_Que mi prieta chula torito_

_Te esta mirando~_

The song was invigorating, exciting, and the cactus mouse even felt like dancing. But just as she got to her feet, it ended on a long, harmonized note sung by the cottonmouth. A little frown of disappointment crossed Priscilla's face, and she sat down once more.

Further down the street, the owls were talking animatedly to the snake, and she smiled and spoke ardently in return. They parted, the owls continuing to converse within themselves and Deliah humming the song's melody as she disappeared into a side street.

"I'm gonna go off for a minute." said Priscilla, standing up again and discarding the stick. The other boys looked at her.

She was curious about the new snake, and wanted to find out more. Behind her Kid Joad simply grunted his recognition, and to her side, Boo shrugged. She thought asking them to come, but decided not to bother. They would ask if they wanted to.

The cactus mouse jogged off in the direction the cottonmouth had gone, rounded a corner, and slowed to a walk. Looking around casually, she found the snake nowhere in sight, with not even a track to follow. She did see a rather climbable side of a house, however, and scaled to the top in a heartbeat.

One of the misfortunes in the town of Mud was that nearly no two roofs were the same, and almost all were full of treacherous footholds that only the most experienced knew of and avoided. Some were nice and flat, some inclined sharply, and some were curved like wide domes. It was rare to see any roofs without boards or tarps covering holes. Luckily, the various homes and structures of mud were also built close together, so as long as she was careful with her footing, she might not slip and fall and break her little neck.

She suddenly caught sight of a glint in the sunlight, a gleam. But in fixing her eyes on where it came from, she saw a black, winding shape making its way down a side street. Deliah seemed to be heading towards the taqueria, one of the few places in Mud that sold Mexican food. Priscilla stepped lightly over the house she was on, and at the edge, hopped a little to get to the next roof. She followed a path she knew across some of the safer tops of various buildings so she could move faster, leaping a little farther to avoid a rain catcher, slowing down to navigate through a series of pipes and chimneys

Finally she was on the shop across from the taqueria, just as Deliah was entering it. The mouse decided to wait and gazed around. It often came to her that what exactly she was doing was spying, but she couldn't help it. And really, she wasn't going to do to anything stop it. Sometimes her curious adventures procured some useful information, and the school teacher was always talking about furtherin' her learnedness, wasn't she.

She was forced to pull away from her rumination when the door to the taqueria opened with the tinkling of a bell, and the scaled head of Deliah came slithering out, a brown paper bag coiled behind her. Moving slowly, Priscilla continued to trail the snake. As she continued to follow the snake through town, watching out for holes in roofs, one eye kept on the cottonmouth, her interest started to lessen. What did she expect? Deliah had revealed nothing except maybe a good singing voice. She couldn't believe there wasn't _something_ curious about her, but the cactus mouse was not sure if she was too bothered to find it out. Of course, she thought, there was a chance Deliah was pretending to be a demure, trivial woman, and she was actually sent by a few outlaws to work great mischief in this town. Another thought hit her, and an inkling of something, a past memory, trickled into her mind.

It was Angelique's voice, talking about a place called Fox House, and that Mongoose Marie was being sought by a "Red Leroy". What if, Deliah was a spy? And the dozen other newcomers, what if they had actually come to take Marie away?

Priscilla scrutinized the cottonmouth below with a newfound distrust. Was she an agent of this Fox House? She clasped her hands behind her back and trudged on, and in the distance she spotted another dark shape slithering through the streets. Rattlesnake Jake. He couldn't be in league with such people, surely. He'd saved Marie twice now, and he wasn't like before, in any case. She rather admired him, despite his notorious reputation.

Deliah had seen the approaching rattler too, Priscilla noticed, but he seemed to be too preoccupied to see the cottonmouth in turn. And then the mouse saw what was going to happen before it did. The female snake kept along her path, and collided into the scaly body of Rattlesnake Jake. Priscilla narrowed her eyes as Deliah flustered and apologized quickly down in the street, dropping the bag he had gotten from the taqueria with its contents spilling onto the ground. Had she, in fact, _actually_ not seen the oncoming rattlesnake? Because who in their right mind would purposefully bump into the Grim Reaper? She watched him closely. He recoiled slightly and loomed over the smaller snake. She couldn't see his face under his hat from the roof where she was, but she imagined his famous fire-like eyes glowing with disdainful anger.

But the muscular rattler simply stayed still for the briefest moment and glided fluidly around the cottonmouth, and growled something too low for the mouse above to hear. He slithered around the bag she had dropped, not bothering to even toss it back to her. She picked it up and stared, not aghast as many would be in her shoes; Priscilla certainly was. Jake seemed apathetic. Calm, even. Looking back towards Deliah, she could just make out her blue-gray eyes…

And they looked hungry.

* * *

><p>With the fact that Rattlesnake Jake no longer seemed to despise her, Marie could not help but radiate with a feeling of mild elation. Certainly, escaping Death from the Grim Reaper was always something to be happy about, but it meant more to her than anyone else knew. She could only hope that... Her brush stokes faltered. Blinking at the canvas she was painting, she adjusted her hat with the back of her paw and sighed. What was she hoping for, exactly? She cleared her throat and sighed. Rattlesnake Jake was powerful, bold, not to mention quite a handsome viper, but she was Mongoose Marie. The last kind of animal in the world for a snake to— to even <em>like<em>, and so far she hadn't done much good to improve that. Still, she did hope for a small miracle that, she might as well admit it, would give her a chance with Jake. But more than that, the revelation of a _relatively_ calmer side to the rattler, in other words his disposition not to kill her, inspired her to as he had put it, work to make it happen.

Speaking of such, she was making another piece of art for him, another attempt to give a gift, to which she was using her life debt as an excuse. Though in reality, it was the least she could do, even if he'd never ask for it. There was also another reason. Just before the beginning of winter Rango had said Jake had come here... "to think". The meaning of that, as far as Marie could figure out, was that the rattlesnake might leave now that it was spring again, and she didn't like that in the least. Rolling her eyes, she vividly imagined the eunuchs back home scolding her for her concerns, and Kyren's disapproving look on her face.

Marie sighed at the vision. The mongoose was almost finished, anyways. Just another few lines of bright yellow in the painted snake's eyes, his shadow on the dusty earth, and why not add a little shine to that gun? Letting out a deep breath once again, she stepped back to view the piece. _Very flattering_, she mused, grinning to herself slyly. Her brows rose and she looked up and around, squinting. Since very recently she had the feeling of always being watched, no doubt from the paranoia of being attacked at any time by Red Leroy's lot. Or maybe it was her eunuch-induced conscience. In any case, she stopped her senseless grinning at once, as they would put it. It probably wasn't a good idea anyway, being so smitten; it seemed childish. Still, she couldn't help but smile again at the painting, because it was really a good one, better than the last.

Her smile faded. What_ did_ happen to the last one? It was only the day or so after she'd woken up from being attacked by that Croy Bolin, and— She walked downstairs to the kitchen, her brush and makeshift palette in hand, frowning thoughtfully. It was him - the bobcat - it had to be him. Who else would and could have taken the portrait? Certainly not Rango, Beans, or Angelique. She thought for a moment and washed her hands and materials in the kitchen sink. Then she flicked them dry, rubbed her hands on a rag, and leaned on the counter. Priscilla could have taken it, couldn't she. She'd been in the Reynolds' house too that day when the mongoose had woken up. But then again, Marie couldn't see why the young cactus mouth would walk off with a portrait of Rattlesnake Jake.

A sound - something like a clatter and cracking - came from somewhere above her. The mongoose looked up in alarm, then towards the living room, for the noise was becoming louder in there. She drew her knife in a flash and walked with caution to the open doorway. Then, just as she entered the room, there was a loud thump from the ceiling and, a small groan. Frowning, Marie took a second to think and dashed up the stairs. If it was Leroy's lot, she was ready.

But it wasn't any burly henchman. No wiry, armed animal at all. Upon kicking the door to her room open, the mongoose saw nothing bust dust and the bright sun shining through a great mess of a hole in her roof. And on the floor, lay the coughing, smarting form of Priscilla.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Another one of those shorter chapters. Sorry it took so long. What with the iCloud deleting two of my files, I decided to come up with a new story direction for this chapter, especially since I got so many reviews on Deliah's character. x) Hope it turned out okay. Happy Easter!**

**Song is "El Toro" by Selena. :)**


	22. Chapter 22: Trust the Snake, Get a Job

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

As Priscilla hacked and coughed, Marie could only stare through the hole in her ceiling and cough with her.

"Priscilla?" she croaked, waving a paw in an attempt to shoo the dust away. "What— Are you alright?"

"I'm... fine, I think..." With the mongoose's help, the mouse was able to stand up and look around through squinted eyes.

"This..." She coughed. "This is all that old Curly's fault." she said, dusting off her navy dress. "Dim-witted barber _moved_ those boxes, so I had to use the bank, and the Reynolds' house, and now..." She peered up at the patch of sky visible through the ceiling and hacked again. "Damn, I'm real sorry 'bout that, Miss Marie."

Marie looked up too. The hole was just big enough for her to climb out of, if she wanted to. A hollowing sigh seeped through her teeth. Just how was she supposed to pay for this with no money? She most certainly wasn't going to make young Priscilla pay for it. "It's... ok." She sighed and paused. "_How_ did you get to be up there?"

The girl made an apologetic face and went off on her explanation. "I was-a just followin' that new missy, Deliah. 'Cause we was out on the saloon porch an' all, me an' Dutch and them, then I heard her singing with those mariachi owls - a new tune I'd never heard, and—"

"Cut to the chase, if you please."

"Well, like I said, I was followin' Miss Deliah. 'Cept I just followed her on the rooftops."

The mongoose raised an eyebrow. The young mouse was impressive, to say the least. Tailing a snake from roof to roof? Her mind flitted back to when she'd whacked ol' Rattlesnake Jake over the head with a frying pan, and she smiled.

Then Marie glanced up quickly at the ceiling again, twisting her lips, and she looked about ruefully at her room. The damage was not _too_ bad. The dust and debris would manageable to clean, and luckily it was approaching summer; there wouldn't be much rain to worry about. A few boards would suffice to cover the hole for a while.

But then something caught her eye in the midst of the rubble - something bright in the room's extra sunlight. It was the canvas, impaled on a length of board and dirt all smeared into the paint.

Her jaw sliding open, Marie collapsed to her knees and stared at the murdered, mutilated thing. How long had she spent on that painting? Four hours? Five? Not to mention the last one, which'd been stolen. Her paws slid down the sides of her face and she began to sob with dry, woeful noises. "Aiyaaa..." she moaned. Priscilla simply blinked.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I'M CRYING, GIRLIE."

Of course she wasn't actually crying, but for a few more seconds, she continued to make small noises of mournful frustration. Then with a groan and a sigh, the mongoose got to her feet and lifted the canvas from the long piece of wood. The painting was absolutely ruined. She could hardly tell that that was Rattlesnake Jake, except that his renowned eyes still showed through the dirt that collected on the wet paint. Realizing that Priscilla was trying to get a look behind her, Marie quickly tossed the ruined canvas into the corner of the room and turned to face the mouse.

"That wadn't Jake, was it?" said Prisilla, beating Marie before she could recover and say anything. She opened her mouth, about to change the subject, but again, the girl spoke first. "I oughta tell you, I saw Deliah crash into 'im outside the taqueria shop, and he didn't even threat'n her life or anythin'. And _she_..." Her small body leaned forward and her eyes widened in all seriousness. "_She_ was hardly surprised herself. And ya shoulda seen her eyes, Miss Marie—"

"Well, why should she be surprised?" blurted out the mongoose. "It's not as if she knew she bumped into the Grim Reaper. Besides, he wouldn't threaten her life for a thing like that."

"I know. She might not know him for a killer, but he's still a huge rattler with a Gatling gun for a tail, and hellish eyes. And shewadn't scared one bit."

"_She's_ a snake, too." The brows of the mongoose lowered. "I'll can't understand this terror you all have because of 'em. Anyways, it hardly concerns _me_." she added, assuming the image of a lady mongoose who did _not_ fancy Rattlesnake Jake, and was _not_ interested in his doings._ That should put off the little aye-aye lookin' mouse._

The little aye-aye lookin' mouse scrutinized the mongoose. "I thought you'd _like_ know what Mister Jake was up to..."

"You—" Marie narrowed her eyes. "You're a sharp one, girlie, and quick, too. I'll grant ya that. But take care your wits don't get you in any trouble. In any case," she sniffed. "Just cause you know how to _think_ don't mean you're always right."

"So, you _ain't_ interested in Rattlesnake Jake?"

"How did this get to being _interested_ in anyone? You fall from the sky and this is where we end up!" She threw up her hands and walked out of the room, holding the door open for Priscilla.

They trotted down the stairs, the mouse eyeing the mongoose all the way, and the mongoose staring determinedly in front of her. Thinking over what the small girl had said, Marie suddenly raised her eyebrows and faced her, both eager to change the topic and talk about something important.

"You said this Deliah was singin'... How good a singer is she?"

Priscilla considered for a moment. "Uhhh... I'd say as good as ol' Dora, oh, but wait, you don' know Dora..."

Marie's eyes widened. She _did_ know Dora, or at least knew who she was: the former singer for Paula's cantina, and...

"But there's somethin about that cottonmouth, she's a cunnin' one, I c'n tell. She ain't all good and proper like she seems, at any rate..."

None of this was reaching Marie's ears. She was fingering her chin and staring at her boots, thinking. Obviously, she'd have to take Deliah to the cantina, and obviously, Paula would have to hire her. It was perfect. The mongoose looked at the cactus mouse and smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, girlie."

Priscilla seemed somewhat surprised, if not confused, but she offered a small smile in return. "I— I _am _really sorry 'bout your roof, Miss Marie."

"Oh, that's old news already. No bother, 'specially since you brought that bit of info. Good to know about that Deliah..."

The mouse's face brightened. "You'll watch out for her, then?"

"Definitely. But I think I need to get myself a job, too." she breathed a laugh.

A pair of big, hazel eyes blinked and shifted from side to side in apparent puzzlement, but Marie was already in the living room and fetching her hat.

"Um, jobs, Miss Marie?" she called after her.

"Yes!" The mongoose rose her voice so that it carried across the living room; her hat was on and she was heading for the door. "Don't worry, it ain't just because of the roof. I've needed a job for ages. Can't hardly do anythin' with no money." And with that, she strode out the door, closing it on a quite confused and slightly worried Priscilla.

* * *

><p>Despite her eagerness to find Paula and tell her about the singing cottonmouth, Marie thought it prudent to first find her own source of income. It was one of those cases where, having put something off for a while, something else had to remind you of it and intervene in your priorities. For Marie, this came about by Priscilla's crashing into her house and the revelation of helping both the new snake and her raccoon friend. So, now, she was walking down the main street, heading towards the sheriff's office, because that was where she thought she might learn about finding work.<p>

As it happened, Sheriff Rango was off duty; Wounded Bird was sitting in a chair right outside the jailhouse, just staring blankly out through his half-hooded eyes. Marie didn't want to bother him, he looked so peaceful. Maybe he was even contemplating the meaning of life and was just about to find his answer, and didn't want to interrupt that. But as she approached the deputy on light feet, he immediately looked up and caught her eye. She smiled.

"I'm not intruding on anythin', am I?" she asked.

The crow's eyelids lifted a little. "Not intruding. Almost fell asleep, on duty. What brings you here, Miss Marie?"

"Oh, I just have a few questions to ask. You see, I need a job." She said frankly. "I've been gettin' by with my old brothers' money ever since I came, and the free residency certainly has helped, but unless I wanna go hunting in the desert, which I'm not exactly good at, I'm gonna need some income."

"You ask me for work?"

The mongoose shifted her weight a little on her feet. "Well, not exactly here, per se. Just any work you might know of. I thought maybe someone here would be the best person to ask, bein' the law and such."

Wounded Bird thought for a moment, holding a feather to his beak and staring back into space. He stayed like that for so long that Marie worried he'd actually fallen asleep. Just when she was about to call his attention, he said,

"This time of year, Curly always need help. Animals prefer trimming and shaving ahead of molting."

"Curly the barber? So, helping him cut hair and... clean up?" A nod of the head from the deputy. She pursed her lips a little. _That'd be my last resort_, she thought.

"Can paint for Mister Black." Said the crow, reading her expression. "Painting coffins."

"Ehm... Perhaps not for me... I prefer not to paint or anythin' for a living, artistic or otherwise." Another nod from the deputy.

"Don't know about Anvil or Willie. Maybe Willie need assistance with general store. But Miss Marie..." He caught her eye again as if reminded of something and said, "Anyone hire you if you ask."

Her brow lifted significantly, and she stayed silent for a moment. Finally she looked down and sighed softly. "Am I to understand I've earned some sort of town reputation, or credit, now?"

"You kill hawk."

"_Jake_," She turned up her head. "killed the hawk. I was just acting on impulse. But— I don't want to make it seem as though I don't appreciate you doing this, but is that all the jobs available 'round here? Helping shopkeepers and barbers...?"

The crow blinked slowly. "Rango... Know more of townspeople. Ask him - he with Miss Bean at ranch."

Marie sniffed lightly and smiled at the deputy. He adjusted his crutch as she tipped her hat to him and bowed slightly, then said,

"Thanks a lot, deputy. Oh— If Miss Deliah happens to come by, do tell her to see me, could you? It's much appreciated."

With a final grin, she stepped off the jailhouse porch and waved goodbye to the bird. He waved a few wing feathers back, wondering why the once outspoken mongoose had practically shrugged off her one great feat in this town.

* * *

><p>"Let's play a game! It's called, Fox 'n Doxies."<p>

The boys looked at Priscilla. She was sitting cross-legged on Bean's ranch, road runners strutting and pecking for acres around. Her friends sat in front of her, like devoted subjects listening to their king. "Wha- what's a doxy?" Said Lucky, disregarding the firework in his hands to look up at the cactus mouse.

"I dunno, but I heard Miss Beans call Angelique that once."

"And how's you play Fox n Doxies, Priss?" That was Kid Joad, the older of the two rabbit brothers. He used a nickname they'd always found funny when they first discovered what a priss was, and that Priscilla was anything but.

She leaned forward and quickly started to inform them of the rules, a matter-of-fact tone in her voice. "One person's the fox, and they chase the other people around and try to catch 'em."

"And what happens when yer caught?"

Her small mouth widened into a grin. "The fox makes them dance right like them doxies do."

They took turns being the fox, spinning an arrowhead on a rock to choose who went first. Boo the frog was a rather slow fox, catching Mordecai only after many minutes of running about the ranch, but he laughed and whooped the loudest at the squirrel's tapping and arm-swinging. Then it was his turn, and Mordecai was chasing Boo through a cluster of squawking road runners. After a while, though, he and started to go after Priscilla, then Dutch, and finally caught Jasper Joad. The small rabbit did a little flopping-jig with much jumping.

"Dance, doxy, dance!" sung Dutch. With a thump, the rabbit stomped and finished. His older brother jokingly pulled Jaspers's hat over his little eyes.

Then, from a distance, they heard, "Dutch Emerson, that better've been not what I thought you said!"

It was Beans, or _Miss_ Beans, to them. A woman with the lungs of a lioness, and one's heart, to boot. They froze and looked at her, wide-eyed and confused.

"There'll be no more talk of dancin' _doxies_, y'hear?" She walked off her doorstep and came within a few feet of their group. Under the glare of her large eyes, her menacing raised eyebrow, and her hard set lips, they nodded stupidly. Except for Priscilla. At that time she'd figured that doxy was not a very good word, but she was a child, too, and obstinate to boot. So while the others were getting over their puzzlement, she said,

"Why? We been playin' Fox 'n Doxies fer ages, and it was you who was callin' Miss Angelique that. We just used the word to make a rhymin'-name."

"Uh... Maybe we oughta change it, Priss..." said one of the boys

"You'd best _better_ if ya'll wanna keep playin' on my ranch."

Priscilla frowned in the dirt. She didn't like being told what to do, right or wrong. But she looked at Miss Beans, and decided she also didn't like getting boxed around the top of the head, as shroud most likely happen. Forging a new name out of thin air, she said, "Foxtrot. It's got a double meanin' not that you dunderheads can figure it out." She sniffed. "Alright. Who's the fox?"

Beans watched them resume their playing for a bit, eyes still on the children as she walked back into the house. It was much darker compared to the harsh sun outside, and she blinked her large eyes several times.

"Rango, you found your tic tacs yet?" she called, and she shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Good Lord, I'm so sorry for the wait! I hope none of you all have quit on me, and I promise to start writing more again now that summer's here. Indeed, it's been here for a while... Heh.**

**I also apologize if this chapter seems a little "cut off". All the same, I hope you liked it. Don't forget to review with any and all of your thoughts! Thank you.**


	23. Chapter 23: What Kind of News, After All

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

The mongoose extended a paw and shook hands with the chameleon. His leathery fingers were slightly calloused and rough, though his grip was soft. She returned his smile, and turning back and forth between him and Beans, her face became thoughtful. _A chameleon in the desert. And a desert iguana to go along with him._

"You've come a long way, too, haven't you? Coming to the desert." she said.

"Indeed I have." Rango squinted his beady eyes and grinned. "In distance, and in a spiritual sense, as well. You ever heard of the Spirit 'o the West?"

"Yes. My brothers..." She paused, faltering slightly, then continued. "...taught me a lot about Western culture. I also met an armadillo in the desert when I first came here."

"Ah, that was Roadkill. He's one o' those enigmatic types." Beans was bringing something that looked like folded cloth, and she handed it to Marie. "Enigmatic by the book, but he can be real enlightening when he wants to be. Now, this is a tarp for your roof, 'till you cn' get it fixed. Probably won't need it, but you never know. It's the least we cn' do since you dealt with that hawk, doing' _some_body's job, and you oughta be paid someat." She threw Rango a look.

Marie took the tarp and thanked the iguana, observing the small exchange between the two, the conciliatory Rango and the proud Miss Beans. A small breath of a laugh escaped her.

"I hope you are very happy together, y'all two."

They blinked, and a dull blush crept onto both their cheeks. "Th-thank you." Chuckled the sheriff. "We're still, well. Haha..."

Her eyes crinkled and her cheeks raised. "And thank you. For the tarp and the job advice. God knows I needed 'em."

"Are you sure you don't want to be made a deputy? There's plenty room for a talented lady like yourself, Marie." said Beans.

"Hehe, no, I'm not much of a responsible type in those kinds of jobs."

Beans clasped her hands and sighed. "Yes, that's what Jake said."

Surprise widened the mongoose's eyes. "Rattlesnake Jake? You offered him a deputy spot?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't my idea. Rango must've felt some _brotherly_ inclination to give the snake some work or somethin', 'cept he declined. I don't know what this bone head was thinkin'," she rolled her eyes at the sheriff, "but I suppose Jake might've been suited for the job, if he wasn't a cold-blooded killer." She spoke the words passively and cast Marie a look as if she didn't mean any harshness the words conveyed. The mongoose felt a surge of warmth for the woman; who could be so strong and independent, and yet soft, too. They hugged, and tarp in hand, she waved good-bye to the lizards on the ranch.

* * *

><p>Marie was grinning excitedly when she walked into the cantina, but when she saw her friend's face, scowling at the scattered tables from the bar counter, her smile faltered. In the small time that she paused in the doorway, her eagerness to tell the raccoon about Deliah was impeded by her desire to know why she was in such a bad mood. The last time Marie had visited, Paula had been quite relieved and elated to see that she was still alive and well. They'd even had a few drinks to celebrate Marie's near escape of Death: the hawk and Rattlesnake Jake. She now felt her own mood deflate, a small sense of foreboding rising as she stood there.<p>

"Qué pasó, chica?" she finally asked, using a phrase the barmaid often used, asking what was wrong. She seemed to jerk into awareness at the mongoose's question, and her expression softened into a slight frown.

"Mija? Oh, es nothing."

Normally Marie would've rolled her eyes at this statement, but a grim seriousness had come to dull any impertinence. On the other hand, she wasn't going to play any games, either. "Are you gonna tell me what it is or aren't you?" She pulled back a high chair from the counter and sat down. "'Cause I 'cn tell its not 'nothing'."

The raccoon cast her a tired look and a raised eyebrow, then straightened her dress. "Money problems." she sighed. "You know that. Es nothing new."

Marie sighed, too, though she out of relief. The reason why Paula had looked to curdle milk would soon be remedied. "I do know, too well." She held up her dusty tarp and let it fall back onto the floor below her feet. "That's to cover a lovely new hole in my ceiling until I can find pay to fix it. But as for you, I think your problems are about to be over." She smiled widely, unable to contain herself, and the raccoon seemed to focus more upon her.

"It's that new lady, the cottonmouth Deliah." she started, looking and grinning into the coon's dark eyes. "Apparently she's quite a songbird, good as your old Dora, according to Priscilla. And you know she can be a reliable source when she wants to be. So, dear Paula, it looks like..."

Paula turned and started surveying the many bottles of alcohol the vast shelf. "You have spoken to this Deliah?" she said, not looking at the mongoose.

Marie rose her eyebrows and looked to the side. "No, do you know her?"

"No." Paula's back was still turned. She stayed silent for a second, then she said tersely, "I don like snakes. Especially de females."

Surprised at this turn of events, the mongoose leaned back in her chair. "Well why's that?"

In a flurry of movement the barmaid spun and carelessly flicked a glass on the counter, making the clear liquid in it spill and splash.

"_Sivergüenzas*_, de lot of 'em." She spoke to the glass with disdain. "Shameless. _Ay,_ _buey_, and another is in our town, and my cantina is going to fail..."

Marie thought she might break down and start crying, but the barmaid simply dropped to a seat with a distraught look on her face. The mongoose looked at the glass, a little at a loss. She probably ought to comfort her friend, but she hardly knew how to set about it. This was out of her field. Her normal approach to these kinds of hardships was to take a deep breath and sort of roll through them, or else take up arms and charge. But Paula seemed to be caught in some sort of snag.

"Hmm." said the mongoose, trying to figure out what best to say. "Deliah doesn't seem that bad, though. People seem to take a liking—"

"Oh! Because she es _linda_, no? Because she es _beautiful_? Yeh, but you wait. They gots the devil in 'em alright. And when they bite you, you gets the devil in you, too!"

Marie stared, the glass on the counter was forgotten with the rest of her surroundings. She had had no idea Paula was so disinclined towards snakes, then again, the subject had almost never come up. But this— this was too much. Sure, Jake was an outlaw, but he wasn't a trigger-happy, sadistic killer that so many made him out to be. Ruthless and dangerous, definitely, but not evil. At least not to Marie. And _Deliah_ - while it was true the mongoose had never spoken to the cottonmouth, she'd seen what she was like when she arrived, hadn't she. And hadn't Priscilla asked to her to "watch out for her"?The lady snake seemed polite enough, once you got past the intimidation she posed as a viper, which was not a problem for a grown mongoose. The cottonmouth wasn't even as big as Jake, and _neither_ had caused anything close to a tragedy for being so-called devils.

"Paula, that's... _ridiculous!_" cried Marie indignantly. The raccoon was being completely irrational. "Jake's not done anythin' since he came to town 'cept save my skin twice and kill a hawk. Deliah ain't no different from the rest of the spring newcomers and she can _hardly_ be more dangerous than Jake. What is it with you and snakes? You never mentioned this before," she said and paused, waiting for an answer.

The raccoon just gave her a hard look, and nodded towards the glass on the counter. "Water." She said curtly. "Drink up. We don't know if the lake will be enough for us come summer."

The mongoose didn't take the water, but just sat there, suddenly feeling glum. Part of her wanted to leave the cantina and not come back for a long time, and part of her wanted to stay and sort this out. She told herself Paula wouldn't be saying any of this if she were not under such stress.

But what _was_ it about snakes that made people automatically think they were demon-spawn? It could be because of the snake, the tempter, in the Garden of Eden, or simply their huge fangs and reputation for strangling, biting, and poisoning their prey. But where Marie came from, a fear of serpents was something outgrown like a fear of the darkness. She would never understand why these westerners had such a hard time doing the same.

"You ain't from 'ere. You ain't like us. We can't fight cobras every other day like it ain't nothin'."

_Ah_. She closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, she met Paula's eyes: dark and determined. Something hot like molten metal rose and filled the mongoose's mouth.

"So. _What?_" she spat. "I never thought you'd be this... _ignorant_." She stood up. "Yes, we can't _all_ be fearless serpent-hunters, and I don't know what happened to make you hate snakes, but if you keep your mind closed like that, you're going to lose your cantina, Paula. Think about it." Marie picked up the tarp and started walking to the door. "We're people, Paula. Animals, yes, but in this town, we're also people. We can reason and interact without having to eat our neighbors just because they're further down the food chain."

Her mood dived and flattened against the dusty ground as soon as she closed the door softly behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

***Spanish for "shameless women"**

**I apologize for another short chapter. :/ My muse kinda just stopped right there, and I can't seem to push it any further for the time being. I hope what's there is adequate. ****Currently, I'm on vacation, very nice, so doubtless SOMETHING in Ecuador may inspire me to write more, haha.**

**Anyways, thankies to you people who are reading and those who're reviewing. :)**


	24. Chapter 24: With no Money, I Chat

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Sleep is a cure to many ailments. Enough rest lets the body recuperate efficiently, without conscious distractions. With a good night's sleep, so to say, one could recover from fallouts of the previous day, or even forget and be rid of residual anger or grief.

This was not the case for Mongoose Marie, as she sat up her bed and squinted in the sunlight. She peered out the window at the bank next door, but she didn't actually see it. Her head was too preoccupied with her argument she'd had with Paula the day before, and the dilemma that rose with it. On top of that, the mongoose still needed to apply for a job somewhere, and still she hadn't made up her mind.

For a few moments he sat in silence, without moving, her thoughts trying to order themselves in her state of half-sleep. Then she cricked her neck, and winced. Wonderful. Might as well add "slept on her shoulder wrong" to her list of troubles.

Grumbling to herself throughout her morning routine, she decided to spend whatever was left of her money on a very big, very nice meal. She yawned on the porch step and leaned back, holding onto her hat. The diner would be the place to get such a meal, and after that, no doubt, a full stomach would fuel the way to a solution to all her problems.

That was the plan in her mind, and it seemed like a very good plan, until she found herself standing in the diner, with not a seat to be found. _Damn_. She'd forgotten how crowded this place was. But no sooner had she stood there for a few awkward seconds, then across the diner there were friendly faces waving to her to take a seat over here, why don't you, or come and have some sustenance, dear, on us? Smiling weakly, the memory of the hawk came back to her. So it really was a big deal, was it?

Except she didn't know how to deal with this much adulation, as the Mariachi Owls might put it, and the mongoose tried to escape, kindly turning down offers and scooting towards the door. To her relief, she was rescued by a tiny paw grabbing her own, pulling her out back into the sunshine and open air.

"Priscilla," she huffed. "Thanks, girlie."

The mouse nodded. "No problem. I could see you was in a fix. There ain't many open seats left this time o' day, but y'could join us on an outdoor table, if ya like."

"Sounds good. Wait— 'Us'?"

It turned out the whole gang was there, from Pyro-Go-Lucky to the squinty-eyed Joads, and all of them seemed to want to know everything and anything about Mongoose Marie. She ordered a lot of food, and used it as an excuse to keep quiet for a while. Eventually, however, her modesty waned and she found herself telling them about the wonders of, in all things, China.

Much like when she first arrived in Mud, she was bragging here and there, but then trying not to so much, she brought herself to focus on her homeland and family.

"My older sister's name is Kyren." she said. "She got married to this scholar, a really learned man called..." She cleared her throat. "Gou Dan." For a moment her face wavered, then it broke into a snigger.

"Godan... Wha's so funny 'bout that?"

Marie sniffed and said with a grin, "It means 'Dog Egg'." The kids stared at her. "It's a Chinese thing." she added, waving it off.

"I don' get it."

"Anyways," the mongoose said, and took a deep breath. "it was initially him that caused me to be here."

Boo gasped. "Did he banish you from all o' China?"

"Nah, I bet she killed the varmint on the premise that he was one 'o those warlord somethin' or others."

"No, no." Her tone was slightly amused. "He was a scholar, right? Well, it's them who're looked up to, and on top of that, he even became a governor. And _I_..." she sighed. "I thought our life was high and uppity enough, because my father— well, he was somethin' of a scholar himself. He did a lot of explorin'. But put a lifestyle with him on top o' that of a wealthy governor; can you imagine that? It was all about manners and being careful not to trod on the wrong people's toes, and being a _laydey_.. As if that's all I was good for!"

The youths were listening and nodding intently, Priscilla especially, watching the mongoose with her saucer-like eyes.

Marie continued. "But that wasn't even the worst part. My brother-in-law, Gou Dan— he wasn't mean or anything, but I couldn't help dislikin' him. I don't know, maybe he did something to me in a past life - I couldn't stand him. But my _sister_ loved the man, an' I s'pose it was painin' her to see us butt heads so often, so, I packed. She got to stay with her powerful husband, and I got to go adventuring off by myself." The mongoose grinned and clasped her hands together, intending to end it there and leave in peace, but the kids weren't down with her yet.

"Tell us about the cobras!"

"Yeah, tell us! Is they as big as rattlesnakes o'er here?"

"Can ya really drink their venom?"

She was helpless against the pack of persistent rug rats, pleading and encouraging her vague descriptions here and there until she launched again and again into full-out stories about cobra legends and her cousin's friend's brother knew a man that did this and had slain that... Even telling them a few anecdotes about her encounters with a few snakes.

"Are yeh all like that, cobra's n' mongooses as sworn enemies?"

"Well, no, I—" she stopped, because this voice was not a child's. She whipped her head 'round where the deep rumble of words had come from, and felt her heart jump as she saw the face of Rattlesnake Jake. She stared at him, eyes a little wide. "Um, well... There _were_ some who managed to get along, and others who were even friends. Of course, it is... taboo... Kind of. But that's in China, and it's probably changed a bit, in the years _I_ been gone..." Her voice trailed into silence as one of the snakes brows rose, as of he were surprised to hear so much about the subject come up; he'd only asked a single question. She felt her cheeks becoming warm. "The rivalry between the two species is very old, and heated, but there have been lots of truces and alliances between some - you'd be surprised."

"Do the snakes fight well, in China?"

There was an inward sigh of relief from the mongoose; this was something she knew by the book. "Yeah, they do. The cobras are very fast, it's just that when they strike with their fangs they miss... A lot of them have blades and needles on their tails, like you have your gun, so they can attack from two points. Their venom won't kill us, most of us, but, we ain't completely immune."

"Eeeh? So ya can't drink any venom?" asked Dutch.

The mongoose chuckled nervously. "We can, and actually it's not unheard of somebody havin' stores of it to drink, just, we ain't entirely unaffected. It's bad for yet liver, you could say."

"That means you get _drunk_." Priscilla whispered to Dutch. Marie gave her a look, but she couldn't hear the cactus mouse.

Jake seemed to get the point too, and to her surprise, he gave a sly grin. "Sound's intriguing, that place. And a long way away." His voice resounded in nostalgia, as if he were remembering a past life, and in that it was tied to her own in the Far East.

"I miss it, but not enough to leave here." she admitted, then she looked up at the serpent's eyes. "Ah, did you want to join us, or eat somethin', maybe?"

"No," the rattler shook his great head. "I've got a bone to pick with a man up north. Never did collect from the varmint... Funds are low."

She let out a breath and smiled. "Don't I know it."

"Oh, could _I_ join you, possibly?" It was yet another new person, and as Marie turned to find the owner of the light, musical voice, she saw Deliah, her white mouth curved in a pleasant smile. Once again the mongoose was reminded of what a beauty she was, as a snake, at least.

"Sure, I suppose. Izzat alright?" she asked the children; they agreed. They had infiltrated the devil's lair with Mongoose Marie. What had they to fear from _this_ amiable creature? And she was so pretty, too. Only Priscilla seemed to be ill at ease with the cottonmouth, though no one noticed. The mouse eyed the snake warily, before moving with the others to make room for the her. She smiled down at all of them.

"Goodbye, Jake." said the black serpent, and the mongoose turned to see the rattlesnake slithering off.

"G'bye!" she managed to blurt out, and he tipped his hat to the group, disappearing down the street.

"I don't see how people can think he's an outlaw." mused Deliah.

"Yeah..." said Marie distractedly. "I mean, he _is_ an outlaw, he's just, changed. I guess..." She allowed herself a gratifying thought. "I guess I'm a little more'n _tolerable _to him_,_ now."

Priscilla sipped at a glass of milk through a straw. "Mongoose Marie's _interested_ in Mister Jake." she said, or began to say, because she was cut short by an overly-loud exclamation from Mongoose Marie herself.

"_Aaahh_, why Deliah, I understand you're looking for a job."

The serpent looked from Priscilla to the mongoose, seeming to catch Marie's words a few seconds slow. "A job? Why, yes. Actually, it's partly because of the fact that I went to the the sheriff's office this morning that I'm here. I spoke to the deputy."

"Oh." said Marie quietly. "He told you to find me, did he?" Vaguely she remembered telling Wounded Bird to pass on that particular message to the cottonmouth if she ever came around. "Yes. Um..." She thought for a minute. What with she and Paula's altercation yesterday, and behind that, the raccoon's dislike of snakes... "I was told you have an extraordinary voice."

"Would you like me to sing? I wouldn't mind."

The mongoose blinked. "Uh, yes; we'd love to hear you."

Almost as if she were restless show them what she could do, she opened her mouth, revealing the milky insides and her black tongue, which flicked out once before she lifted her voice in song.

_"Upon a day in country old,_

_Where chance for love ne'er faltered,_

_I fell for a man - wayward and bold_

_Who did nothing but palter..._

_He sang my heart, just like a tune_

_But my mind no one could alter..._

_And came next year, when bells rang noon_

_He asked me if I'd wed him soon_

_And I said yes, and then near swooned,_

_We lived hap'ly e'er after..._"

"Well, that sounded jolly, yeah?" said Dutch as they all clapped for Deliah. She nodded a thanks.

Marie looked at her smiling. The snake really did have a beautiful, voice, not that she was an expert at singing, being quite sorry at it herself, but Deliah had a kind of ringing quality that was both clear and strong, and she liked that."

"I'll tell you what..." she said to the black cottonmouth. If Paula could just hear her before judging... "Meet me tomorrow at the cantina down the main street. High noon. I think I've found a nice line of work for you there. The owner's a friend of mine who's been looking for some music talent - you can give her a bit of a surprise with your singing, no doubt." She grinned.

"There _was_ a sign that said 'Live Music'. Ah!" said Deliah, like she'd just realized something. "The owls! I had such a time with them the other day; they're really fantastic musicians... Might I bring them to accompany me?"

Marie nodded enthusiastically, leaning back in her seat. "By all means. We want the performance to be sensational - to turn heads everywhere." _And to smash through the walls of prejudice_, she thought, but she didn't say that.

Elated, the serpent thanked her and got up to leave. The mongoose said farewell, adjusting her hat, and turned on the heel of her boots to walk back to the Reynolds' house. She was at a completely different disposition that she'd been the day before. Th coming of tomorrow was full of promise and hope.

Watching her go, the cottonmouth swished her glinting tail and could not have agreed more.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Another chapter, another long wait. ^^; OTL Hope this longer one was better! Enjoy your last weeks of summer. _ <strong>


	25. Chapter 25: Not a Hoot

**Chapter 25**

Mud was swelteringly hot. Summer was only just beginning to start, but there were those occasional days where the sun decided the heat of the season must come full tilt through the town's dusty streets. The water in the lake became somewhat crowded on these days, especially with the youths of Mud running and swimming around, except for Mordecai, who was still learning how to swim.

Watching them splash around, enjoying the water, Marie was envious of them; and then she was envious of all desert animals. During the summer it was a prominent thought that they had evolved to survive in the desert, and she had not. She was the foreigner; the China-girl. It was the heat that brought these thoughts, but with a scoff and a sniff she swatted them away like the flies that buzzed through the dry air.

She had survived the harsh season before, and she could do it again. This was what ran through her mind while she walked to the cantina under the near-noon sun. She was wearing trousers and a thin shirt, the latter of which being one of her prized possessions from China. It was of a more modern design, white, collared, with soft yellow trim a small breast pocket. On the back where small words embroidered in badly-translated English such as "Lucky Happy" and "Hello, hello, hello! Sunrise wish come true." It was not so much the design that she liked, and with her belt, hat and boots it looked very out of place, but it had its value, and it was her the thinnest shirt she had for hot days like this. The sun glared down on it, like a cruel older sibling beating down the younger's new toy to test its durability. Why had she picked midday to meet with Deliah? The clock tower behind her tolled as if to agree. At least the heat meant Paula would surely be inside to receive any thirsty customers. The mongoose went into a kind of daydream while walking. First the barmaid would be sitting behind the counter, when she'd hear someone singing softly, yes... And then, she'd realize the singing was good, phenomenally good, and rush outside, only to see Deliah the Cottonmouth with Mongoose Marie, beaming at the both of them.

It was perfect, she thought, but even as she thought it she came up against something hard which made her stumble - in a literal sense.

It took no more than a glance at the scaly body she'd bumped into to know who he was. How could anyone not tell this massive snake, with his shocking, fire-like eyes and unyielding demeanor, was Rattlesnake Jake? Her eyes flipped up to meet his, and there was a light thumping in her ears as she saw him glaring down at her.

"Lookin' fer a fight, Mongoose Marie?" came a rumble, like the earth quaking beneath her feet, liable to crack open and swallow her at any moment.

Was she scared? She wasn't scared, was she? The mongoose had just put a hawk under her belt, along with the many cobras she'd slain. She kept her face casual, slightly surprised, with a hint of a smile at seeing the rattler, even if he was frowning perpetually at her.

"Not unless it's a fight you want."

A swift kick in the backside was in order for the mongoose. She sounded just as cocky as when she'd first come to Mud and spun a bottle of cactus juice in the air. And he was still frowning and not moving. Then finally, after a silence filled by her whirling thoughts, he laughed. I was a small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, and his tail clicked softly with it.

"If you can kill a hawk, what's a skirmish with Rattlesnake Jake?" he smirked, and Marie flushed at once.

"I didn't mean— I was joking." she said feebly. It was a half lie. She really _had_ been ready if a fight, if it need be, but not so much with him. Marie was only just realizing she might have mistakenly taken his first question in earnest.

"As was I." he said, confirming her misgiving. He spoke in a half-whisper, but he was clear and strikingly easy to hear. The snake looked at her, eyes now burnt down to a smolder. She had to look away, as she had not known he'd been joking at first. Her eyes found the cantina, partly obscured by the shops and various buildings lining the street.

Once again she had to keep her face and tone casual. "I'm going to the cantina. Deliah's gonna be auditioning there, sort of."

"Sort of." the rattlesnake repeated, as if the description was inadequate, and it was. Marie took a breath to explain, but stopped when she couldn't figure out how... He must have seen her difficulty, because he said, almost with disinterest, "She told me she was gonna try fer singer, told a lot o' fellers in the diner. Ain't told us when, though."

"Oh, why don't come and listen?" she asked, without even thinking. "I haven't heard her myself, but Priscilla says she's damn good, better'n Dora that used to work there."

"I don't know Dora." He made the statement as if to make null all her reasons for him to come, and she couldn't help but feel some disappointment at his words. Then the snake started to move forward, and he added in his baritone voice, "But I do know Priscilla, an' she's smarter 'n what's good for 'er, the mongrel."

"That's nearly what I told her." Marie grinned, and started to walk alongside him.

Jake returned no smile, but gave her a side-long look that she didn't catch. Had she been watching him, she'd think his expression was amused, though she might also have thought it were for the cactus mouse. Instead, he commented, "That's an interestin' shirt yeh got there..."

With a skip of the heart the mongoose remembered what shirt she was wearing, and she groaned inwardly at what he must be seeing. "It's... a memento, from China." She sighed.

He slithered on. "Sentiment." The word hissed off the rattler's forked tongue.

Marie saw it, black and quick, darting out into the air and back again, leaving a trace of amusement and disdain. She gave herself a little shake and said nothing. What an odd thing to say. Or maybe, it wasn't so odd. For someone who'd killed as easily and as much as Rattlesnake Jake, was it so strange that he would look on sentiment as something trivial, unneeded? It was a sad thing, she thought, because how could anyone live without those things labeled as "sentiment"? The fondness of memories, the funny and the joyous, making attachments to the people you loved, and relishing the the moments they brought... And then she wondered, once again, why was he even here? And why was he coming to see the newcomer sing? …Because it seemed just as needless as anything sentimental. Perhaps, she said to herself, it meant he was turning from his cold-blooded ways and starting, maybe unconsciously, to feel what apathy had been holding from him.

The truth of the matter was, Rattlesnake Jake had nothing better to do. Rather than acting against apathy, it was apathy that he acted out of. He wasn't lazy, he didn't spurn a nice song from a good voice, and he still had his curiosity, namely, learning about the only other serpent come to Mud, yet he didn't care do much else, at least at that moment. He cared nothing for being the gun for hire anymore, not for money, nor renown, or killing. The last of that love had died with the hawk he'd shot more than a week prior. What was the point, he asked himself, of threatening this clerk and ending that smith, gaining wealth and fame? The ultimate result was to live in opulence, but... There was no pleasure in getting there.

It was the sheriff's fault. No, the doubt and this turn-around had been brewing for some time, but it _was_ Rango who'd been the final straw and broke the camel's back. As the chameleon had said to Marie in the past coming of winter, Jake had been lost, and Rango had talked to him. He'd come to Mud to think, and this is where the long hours of thought and consideration had led him: he didn't give a hoot. And it was all very well for him; the rattler was content, but had he been listening to Mongoose Marie's thoughts right then, he might've realized that, in fact, there was a lot lost in not caring.

By now they were approaching the cantina, and the mongoose felt her steps halt assuredly on the ground. But then she looked around. Jake did too, a ghost of a question in his gaze. Where was Deliah? She turned back where the clock tower stood tall over the town; it was ten minutes past noon. The cottonmouth would not have left after waiting for the mongoose for ten minutes, would she? Or was it the snake who was late? A paw scritched her head under her hat. Waiting seemed the thing to do. She didn't want to ask Paula if she'd seen the black cottonmouth; not after their row the other day.

Just to make sure, she walked around the cantina, behind the jar that was separate from the main body, except it was bigger, and read "Live Music." If Deliah had been behind the place and she with Jake staying in front, and they'd all spent pointless minutes waiting for one another, what a fine thing that would be.

As she came past a cracked and chipped part of the curved wall, she thought she heard something inside. The rattler came around the other side and watched the mongoose put an ear to the warm clay, which seemed to make every sound increase a hundred fold.

There was a high-pitched whimpering and snuffling, and Marie immediately thought, with confused alarm, of Paula. But it didn't sound like the voice of the raccoon, and slowly it occurred to her that the noises were coming from Deliah. What was happening?

Then the mongoose caught the last words come from a rolling, raspy voice. "...think so." it was saying softly. It sounded irate and impatient, like a child left too long in the company of elders.

Another voice replied, just as soft, but lower-pitched. "We came all the way from Fox House. She'd better come."

Marie felt her breath quicken, and she looked, shocked, towards the rattlesnake that was arched just above her head. She spoke in a disbelieving whisper.

"It's Red Leroy's people… and they've got Deliah."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**So I realize I haven't portrayed Jake's metamorphosis as... epicly, as I'd liked. But I guess going from a stone-cold killer to a careless rattler, in itself, is not very epic. Worry not, though, as Jake's got another thing comin'. ;) And I promise to give that all the setup, time, and epicness it deserves. In the meantime, I hope that explanation, how he's now done with his "thinking" and has come to the conclusion that he simply doesn't like killing for money anymore, is enough. I'm not entirely sure. Please do give me your thoughts.**

**Oh, and what did you think about poor Miss Deliah after this chapter? I wonder what will happen next...**

**I must apologize for another long wait and a not-as-long-as-one-would-hope-for chapter, but, well, I really have no excuse. *facepalm* Except that I did start writing another fanfiction with a friend. Perhaps from here, though, things will become more exciting and I will be more motivated to write.**

**A thousand thanks to all my readers and reviewers! ^_^**


	26. The End

From the sky came a meteor. It crashed on the earth and killed everyone. The end.

...Just kidding. But I'm afraid this _is_ the end, for now. I'm so sorry, everyone, but I feel that this fanfic has lived and died an untimely death, due to a crooked plot-spine and a bad case of flat characters. Quality of the story aside, I have very little time to write these days, due to school work and what-not. I am going to have to put_ A Mongoose Comes West_ aside, until I get my act together and start whizzing through art assignments and World History chapters as fast as Marie can dodge a bullet.

Fortunately, I will not be giving up on this story completely. I plan to rewrite it entirely, revamping the characters, plot - everything. The fact that Marie still seems like a Mary Sue because she doesn't have any major flaws needs revising, and I just don't feel happy with how I changed Jake's character. One day I will come back and have a much better story to tell of Mongoose Marie and how she is brought together with Rattlesnake Jake. :) Until then, this fanfic will have to collect dust here.

Again, a thousand apologies to my readers. I really hate to do this, but I think I have to. Thanks to everyone who ever read my fanfic, even if it was just a few paragraphs, and a million thanks more to those who reviewed. You all are the motivation that binds me to this story, and the reason I most definitely will return.

Good bye for now!


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